


Sunshine and Moonlight

by JDominique37



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Destiny, F/M, Manga & Anime, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 44,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5629243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JDominique37/pseuds/JDominique37
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day and night. Opposites. Never to meet. She, daughter of an elder and the village’s prodigy, who roams the mountains where she grew up and longs to see more of the world. He, the cursed Blue Dragon, silent and watchful, despised by the people whom he vows to protect. It would seem that the girl of sunshine and the boy of moonlight would never meet. But as it would turn out, things never happen the way one would expect. And one day, the night favors the day . . . Because, after all, there is no sun without the moon — and there is no moonlight without darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tale of the Blue Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Another story! I've actually had this one drafted and edited(-ish) for a while, but then after the second editing read-through, I just kind of left it. That being said, it could still do with a lot of work, but I'm actually pretty happy with it. It's a novella of about 40,000 words about one of my favorite animes: Akatsuki no Yona/Yona of the Dawn, featuring my favorite dragon, Shin-Ah! And since I'm a sucker for romance, it involves Shin-Ah finding a romantic partner . . . which automatically makes this story a bit AU - however, I tried to keep it as canon as possible, although there are a few AU elements. 
> 
> Okay, all that being said (my author notes are always extremely long . . .), since I've already finished and edited this project, I should update on a fairly regular basis. There are fourteen chapters in all (some of them quite lengthy, if I remember correctly). As it is a short story, there's not a ton of development, but it mainly focuses on the two main characters: Shin-Ah, obviously, and the POV character, my female OC. 
> 
> I think that's all I wanna say for right now . . . other than DISCLAIMER: I do not own Akatsuki no Yona! Such a beautiful story, though. If you haven't watched the anime or read the manga, I highly encourage it! That being said, please enjoy the first chapter of Sunshine and Moonlight!

_Chapter 1_

_Tale of the Blue Dragon_

* * *

The previous Seiryuu had died just the day before it happened.

Like most villages, the news spread fast. Usually, we didn’t bother to keep quiet about such gossip. We were small, everyone knew everything. But when it concerned the Seiryuu, rambunctious rumors turned into rushed gestures and whispered conversations. They moved like the wind, swift and silent, winding around, creeping up on you, tugging and threatening to push you over if you weren’t careful.

I am always careful when the rumors concern the Seiryuu. I learned that the hard way.

As it was, the previous Seiryuu, Ao, had just died, leaving his successor, little Seiryuu as I called him, alone. In a normal situation, this may have been sad. Tragic, even. But this is the Seiryuu we are talking about. A cursed human with the blood of a dragon running through his veins. Someone with the power to turn you to stone just by looking you in the eyes. Forced to wear a mask his whole life, the Seiryuu is isolated and hated by the village he protects.

Sometimes, I wonder why he protects us. If we hate him so much, why does he stay? If he has so much power, why doesn’t he move and find someone who appreciates him? Why does he have such an odd sense of duty?

On the other hand, if we hate him so much, why don’t _we_ move away from _him_?

My father, Man-Shik, is one of the elders of our village, so I asked him this question once, and his reply was: “You do not understand yet, Ae-Sun, but you will. We, the village of the Seiryuu, have a duty to stay and protect the world from the knowledge of the blue dragon and his dangerous power. He, in turn, must stay hidden.”

I wasn’t satisfied with the answer and said as much, but my father only patted my head and said, “You are too young to understand. You will later.”

I trusted him then. He was wise, he was an elder. I was young, with much to experience.

Anyway, little Seiryuu was all alone now, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about him. In fact, most of the children around my age would be lying if they said they wanted nothing to do with him. We all watched him, with his eyes hidden behind his curious mask, and wondered. We feared him, yes, and we definitely didn’t want to be friends with him, that’s true, but perhaps a small part of us just wanted to see . . . what was under that mask? What great power did those eyes hold?

To this day, I wonder if I am the only one to have seen them and to have lived.

I remember it clearly: on the night after the late Seiryuu had passed, rain had begun to fall. Lightning illuminated the world, thunder shook the ground, and gusts of wind hurled at the walls, threatening to blow the house away. I woke up and out of instinct, the first words out of my mouth were, “Mother?”

She was not there, of course. She had died three months ago.

She used to hold me during the storms.

I curled deeper into my bed, hugging my pillow, and wishing for the thunder to stop crashing. A deep cold coursed through my bones, aching — not only from the fear of the storm, but from loss. I wished for my father to wake, to realize I was scared, to come to my room and climb into my bed with me, and comfort me like Mother used to.

Father was not that type of person.

So I stayed in my own bed, eyes squeezed shut, heart pounding, waiting for the storm to stop. I could not go back to sleep, even if I tried.

And then . . . I heard something. It sounded like cries. Something clashing. Not like the thunder or the lightning, not like the rain. Not like a storm.

It sounded like . . . fighting? Despair and . . . ?

I shifted and opened my eyes. It was still dark, but something felt wrong deep inside me. Quietly, so as to not wake my father in his room, I uncovered myself and sat up. Listening as hard as I could, I heard the strange noises again.

Something told me they were sounds of anguish.

Daring came over me and I hurried to find my shoes. I threw on a threadbare coat to protect myself from the rain and I raced outside. Almost immediately, I was soaked — not only by the slippery wet sheen of rain, but also by the darkness and that strange sense that had been pervading the air. For a moment, I hesitated at my house’s doorstep, but then I stepped forward, and began to run. I didn’t know where I was going and the rain was so thick I could barely see, but my feet led me to the edge of the village and —

The noises stopped.

I skidded and nearly fell, the slick mud pulling at my feet. The rain slashed through the sky, harder, harder. Lightning flashed and thunder sounded once again. The air felt heavy against my shoulders.

The clearing before me smelled of blood and tasted like fear.

Bodies were strewn across the ground, some fallen over each other, like they were in a hurry to get away before they collapsed. I recognized them to be soldiers by the weapons they carried. Some of their swords had impaled themselves and blood was now flooding out of their wounds, bathing the ground. All of them lay on the ground, in some way or another, motionless, their eyes dull, lifeless, yet still with a haunted look to them.

_Petrified._

And there was the little Seiryuu, standing in the middle of the destruction. He looked exhausted, drained, and full of grief himself . . .

I remember staring at the scene for a few moments before I gasped, loud and clear, even over the rain.

The Seiryuu turned to look at me and I froze.

_This is it,_ I thought. _I’m going to live the rest of my life as a gaping stone statue._

But instead of feeling my skin turn to rock, my blood boil, crack, and harden, the Seiryuu and I simply stared at each other for a few moments and I . . .

I saw his face.

I saw his eyes.

And they were beautiful.

* * *

 The Seiryuu collapsed right after that, his small body falling onto the blood-streaked mud, as whatever little energy he’d had left in him disappeared. I felt a strange urge to go to him, but before I could help him, my father and several of the other villagers appeared, awakened by the same commotion I heard. If they saw me out, I would surely be punished, so I escaped from the area, and ran back to my room (hoping that Father had not checked to see if I was gone).

I shed my wet clothes and dried my hair as best I could before I climbed back in bed. I knew it was futile to try and go to sleep. I would not sleep, perhaps not for a while. And if I did, I knew I would dream of only one thing.

A few days later, the decision had been finalized. The Seiryuu had made a terrible mistake, and now the whole village was going to pay for it.

We were moving to the mountains. We were escaping, we were hiding. None of the soldiers had survived — little Seiryuu had completely wiped them out — but word would soon get out that something strange had happened. And we had no power to make the small army of dead soldiers in front of our village vanish. So we were running. To a new place, with no knowledge of the Seiryuu, a place where we could hopefully have a semi-normal life, a place that was not colored by the blue dragon’s curse.

That was what the elders wanted us to believe.

I myself didn’t have any particular fondness for our current village, but as I packed, I saw outside my window several of the older women crying as they disposed of their precious belongings. They openly blamed the Seiryuu as they decided which of their items to leave behind and which were necessary for the long trek to the mountains.

It wasn’t his fault. I knew that. Everyone knew that. He’d saved us from certain destruction. We weren’t a town of warriors. If the little Seiryuu hadn’t defeated the soldiers, we would never have seen another day.

Everyone knew that.

But the hatred and fear of the Seiryuu ran deep. It did not disappear just because he had saved our lives.

Even though it should’ve.

I, for one, do not believe the Seiryuu is evil. I do not believe he is cursed. Or that he’s out to get us. Why would he protect us if that’s the case?

The Seiryuu had beautiful eyes.

To this day, I remember them. I haven’t told anyone about them. How when he looked at me, I didn’t feel as if I was being turned to stone — but that I was being made alive, my soul leaping out of its bounds, yearning to be free. I hold that memory, that feeling, against my heart, a precious secret that is mine and mine only.

The Seiryuu has beautiful eyes.

I want to see them again . . . because I don’t believe that anything so beautiful can be cursed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So obviously Ae-Sun (the protagonist, in case you forgot her name) has an obsession. Whatever. Anyway, what did you guys think? Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Before you go, though, I'd like to make a few notes. When I title chapters, I always like them to have special meanings. In this case, each chapter title is inspired from a song on the Akatsuki no Yona soundtrack. I will tell you what each of them are before each chapter (except for this one). This chapter I used a very similar title as Shin-Ah's theme song: Tales of Blue Dragon. The song is amazing and gives me Shin-Ah-poor-blue-Seiryuu feels every time, so I highly recommend you go listen to it. I listened to it on repeat while writing this chapter. (And for each chapter with their respective songs, I did the same.) 
> 
> One other thing. Most (not all) names in Akatsuki no Yona are Korean-based. So I looked up Korean names and paired random stuff together to create new meanings. Ae-Sun's name means "loving and goodness," which doesn't really mean anything to the story. However, the "Sun" part of her name is a play on words, for sun and sunlight and all that. (By the way, her name is pronounced A-sUn.) Ae-Sun's father's name, Man-Shik (pronounced mahn-sheek), means "deeply rooted." I believe those are all the names in the chapter. I'll tell you any other meanings as other characters pop up. You guys may not be interested, but I think it's cool, so there. 
> 
> Rambling aside, thanks for reading again! You guys are awesome! Akatsuki no Yona is awesome. Shin-Ah is adorable and awesome and his story breaks my heart. 
> 
> ~ J. Dominique


	2. Morning Dew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the first chapter was a bit like a prologue, so now we're really getting into the story (although this chapter is still kind of introductory). The theme song of this chapter is Akatsuki-no-YONA (Morning Dew Version), which is where I got the title of the chapter, obviously. I'll have a few more thoughts after the chapter, as for now . . . thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy chapter two!

_Chapter 2_

_Morning Dew_

* * *

“For the last time,” I say, “please leave me alone. I’m not interested.”

Ki-Gun lowers his eyes in a pleading manner. “Come now, Ae-Sun,” he says. “Don’t be that way. We all know you’re just playing hard to get. You can’t resist me.”

I resist and turn away from him.

He falls into pace beside me and continues talking, sweeping his dark hair from his face. “Your father approves, you know.”

I do know.

I say, “Yes, well, my father eats raw meat. That must be why he likes you. Your maturity level isn’t fully done cooking yet.”

Ki-Gun gives me a disapproving look. “ _My_ father approves also,” he says, as if that settles the matter. “And everyone else in the village does, too.” He spreads his arms around, motioning at the walls of the caves, adorned with torches to light our pathway.

I step over a crack in the ground and watch, amused, as Ki-Gun forgets the flaw in the stone and trips. In his distraction, I take a moment to study him — he is not wearing his mask right now, which he’d normally be punished for. However, being who he is, he gets away with a lot more than he should. I can’t deny that he’s good-looking: long dark hair tied down his back, and brown eyes that some girls my age describe as “warm” and “delightful.” I would call them arrogant. He’s tall and well-muscled, one of the best fighters in our village of measly warriors, and he has a well-chiseled face that many of the girls would die to wake up to every morning.

He is, in essence, the boy I have been betrothed to since birth — just no one says that out loud. Technically, I still have a choice, but not really.

After all, he’s the son of the first elder, and I am the daughter of the second elder. We are both the same age, born a few months apart. A boy and girl, could it be any more perfect? It must be destiny!

Yes, I’m sure that’s what our parents thought.

Ki-Gun seems to take this in stride, as he does with most of the things in his life, but I despise it with every fiber in my being. I have always been impatient, stubborn, and unwilling to comply with any sort of rules, and marriage the least of all of them.

Refusing Ki-Gun’s advances hasn’t been that hard in the past, but as we’ve gotten older, he’s become more persistent. And now that we’re both sixteen and marriageable . . .

Ki-Gun catches me staring at him and smiles. “See something you like?” he says. He straightens himself, not the least embarrassed by his mistake, and reaches forward to undo the string that holds my mask in place.

I swat his hand away.

“C’mon, Ae-Sun,” he whines. “I want to see your face.”

“No,” I say and my voice comes out strained.

He reaches forward again, but this time he grabs a strand of my hair and twines his fingers through it. I cringe.

Everyone seems to have a weird fascination with my hair. Perhaps because it is blonde, the same color as my mother’s, a color that is not very common in our village. Ki-Gun, especially, takes every opportunity he can to play with the golden locks. Sometimes I wish I could just cut it off, but I know my father would disapprove if I did that. Our women’s hair here is valued.

“Please, Ki-Gun,” I say and I step away from him, trying not to jerk or slap him.

Then, because I cannot stop myself, I turn and start to run.

* * *

 By the time I stop, my breath is coming in short gasps and my side is straining. I lean against the wall of the cave and close my eyes. I don’t know how far I’ve run. Too far, probably.

For the last twelve years we’ve lived here, I’ve been exploring the mountains. Every day I go a little farther. Dangerous, I know, and my father would certainly be unhappy if he knew. But I can’t help it. The burning curiosity inside me demands it, and who am I to stop it from getting what it wants? I want to see, I want to experience so much more . . . even exploring the mountains is not enough.

Once my breathing has evened out, I glance up. Darkness surrounds me, no torches to light my way now, and I don’t recognize where I am, but this doesn’t worry me. I’ve gotten lost plenty of times in the mountains, but I always seem to find my way back. I’ve come to see the mountains as my friends as much as my prisoners.

Before Ki-Gun cornered me, I was planning on hunting for the village. While we don’t starve, we’re always a little short on food. Most of my free time is spent wandering the mountains, searching for game.

I breathe in deeply once more and let my senses wander around me. I feel just the slightest draft coming from my left, meaning there’s probably an opening that leads out. I can smell the trees and the outside and my heart yearns for it. Living inside the caves is torture for me.

I swing my bow off my shoulders, feeling the familiar roughness of the carved wood, and nock an arrow on the string in case there’s already an unsuspecting animal waiting outside. Then I creep toward the alluring smells of open air and living things.

My eyes having adjusted, I walk along the wall of the cave, following the scent of fresh air, careful of uneven ground, until I see light up ahead. My step quickens just a bit, despite myself. Then — I am outside.

And because it is a stupid habit I can’t stop, I lower my mask from my face to take in the full sight in front of me.

I breathe in and blink a few times, the brightness of the day blinding me. I must have climbed high, because I’m standing on what is almost a sheer cliff. Below me, trees grow at steep angles, roots twisted on the craggily rocks. The sky above is a beautiful cerulean blue with clouds sometimes flitting across the shining sun, sending shadows over the land. A smile widens on my face as gratitude fills me, gratitude for the ability to experience all the wonderful and amazing views before me.

I lift my bow to a more comfortable position and glance around me. Before me, the ground travels a few feet before ending in the cliff and the same on the left, but to the right, if I’m careful, it looks like it widens out and I might be able to find some prey.

I don’t want to go back to the village empty-handed, so I shift my grip on my bow and take a tentative step to the side, testing my weight. Then a few more. More confident now, I begin to watch around me for sight of movement.

There’s a slight noise behind me, almost like a ringing sound, and I spin around, lifting my bow up to aim the arrow at —

Nothing.

I frown, positive I’d heard something.

Shrugging, I decide to move on. Several minutes later, after I’ve climbed higher, the path becomes narrower again. Before me, though, I see a thick copse of trees. If I can just get to that, I’m sure there’ll be a lot of prey there.

The wind gently pushes me backward — good. That means the animals won’t sense me coming. I smile, confident now that I’ll be getting something good, and continue forward.

My eyes catch sight of movement in the trees and I freeze, my hand tightening on my bow.

I crouch down and aim where I’d seen the movement. I pull back my bow a fraction more, squinting to try and identify my target, and —

The ground shakes beneath me and the whole mountain starts to rumble. Flocks of birds erupt from the trees, flapping their wings as hard as they can to escape. Rocks tremble and start rolling down the mountainside, the sound thundering in my ears.

An earthquake?! Now?

While infrequent, they’ve happened before, especially when the mountains are concerned. But the awful timing . . .

I start to move, somewhere, anywhere, but my thoughts are wild, panicked, and I have no real plan or idea of what to do in this situation. I just know I need to move.

The ground, still quivering, suddenly collapses beneath me and I scream as my feet slide out from underneath me, the momentum of the earthquake carrying me down. My bow flies out from my hands and disappears over the cliff and I’m about to, too, if I don’t —

I scramble to find something to hold onto — anything — and my hand grabs onto something that seems to appear out of nowhere.

Instinct fuels me and I pull onto it, anchoring myself. Except whatever thing I’d grabbed apparently wasn’t too secure itself because it falls off into my hand. I scream again as I realize I’m still falling, dirt and rocks scraping alongside me, when someone grabs onto me and pulls me up.

Someone . . .

“Ki-Gun?” I gasp, because my mind thinks of odd things when I’m in danger.

But no.

I look up and I see something I’d never truly thought I’d see again.

Sharp, golden eyes, highlighted underneath by two red markings on the cheeks.

“You.”

When he sees me looking at him, the Seiryuu squeezes his eyes shut. But not soon enough. I’d seen them. I’d seen them again.

An almost giddy thought comes over me. _I’d seen them again!_ Probably not something I should be thinking about right now, considering the situation. But my chaotic mind latched onto the thought:

They’re still just as beautiful as I remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering that Ae-Sun was four when the previous chapter took place, it's a little hard to believe that she still remembers it so clearly. Normally, I would've made her a bit older, but we were clearly told that Shin-Ah was four, and I wanted them to be the same age (they're sixteen now, if you didn't catch that), so there was nothing I could do about. Oh, well. This is the Seiryuu's eyes we're talking about, I guess. Pretty hard to forget, huh? 
> 
> We're introduced to a new character here! Ki-Gun (pronounced kee-gUn), which means "rising and strong." Pretty fitting, I suppose. Also, another note I want to make is that of the village masks. In the manga, there's a side note that says that the tradition that they wear their masks until they're married is actually just an excuse to hide their expressions from the Seiryuu and stuff. However, I found the idea interesting, and decided to make it both. 
> 
> Thanks for reading chapter two, everyone! I hope you enjoyed it! Again, thank you so much! ^_^
> 
> ~ J. Dominique


	3. Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! You could say this chapter is when things really start going. We really get to meet Shin-Ah and all. The song for this chapter is actually the first ending song, Yoru (which means night), by Vistlip. Thanks to everyone who's read so far. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

_Chapter 3_

_Night_

* * *

The Seiryuu hauls me up from the edge of the cliff, and once I’m safely back on the ground, I realize three things: the earthquake has stopped; I am holding his horned mask (which must’ve been the thing I’d grabbed onto and subsequently pulled off), and he is still grasping my waist from lifting me from the cliff.

And much like the first time I saw him, when I was four years old, I gasp out loud. He jolts and lets go of me. There is suddenly a copious amount of distance between us and I don’t even recall moving.

It takes me a moment to remember that this is the first time I’ve seen the Seiryuu in a long time. The obvious details: He has blue hair kept cropped short and wears a dark robe and two ceremonial necklaces. He’s much taller than me, broad-shouldered, and guessing from the way he easily hoisted me from the cliff, very strong.

Numbly, all I can think is, _Well, I guess I can’t call him little Seiryuu anymore._

I look closer at him. He’d opened his eyes again, but when he sees me looking, he turns his face away. On a normal boy, it would’ve just made him look like he was shy. But he’s far from your average boy.

I blink a few times and then I say, “I’m sorry. I mean, thank you. I . . . here. Here’s your mask.”

As I hand it over to him, I notice the numerous cracks in it, but I also notice that it seems to be taken care of well, clean and smooth. Tied around one of the horns are two bells. I frown at them . . . hadn’t I heard something earlier that sounded like the jingle of bells? Could it have been . . . ?

His eyes still turned away from me, he takes the mask, and refastens it against his face.

“T-thank you,” I say again. “You saved my life.”

He nods, almost imperceptibly, and rotates his back to me. If anyone else had done this to me, I would’ve felt peeved, like they were being rude and ignoring me, but with him . . . this is undeniably an uncomfortable situation and I honestly don’t know how much experience he has with this sort of thing (and it’s not like I have a lot experience with it either). Does he go around often saving girls from earthquakes? So I’m not quite sure how to feel.

I’m not sure what to do next either. The sky is still that beautiful blue, and a friendly breeze plays with my hair, like nothing has changed. Like there was no earthquake, like the Seiryuu didn’t save me . . . like I didn’t see his eyes again. I hug my arms around myself and that’s when I realize I lost my bow. A small part of me mourns. The weapon had been like a friend, familiar and worn from its many times of use.

Looks like I won’t be bringing anything back, after all.

I glance back at the Seiryuu and notice that he has a sword across his back, the hilt poking out over his shoulder. His face is lifted toward the sky and it seems he doesn’t know what to do in this situation either.

Just then, though, my huntress instincts twinge and I flip around to stare at the copse of trees I’d been staring at before the earthquake. Most of the trees have fallen and are now a pile of rubble. But picking its way across is a white wolf.

It growls at the Seiryuu and me, and its nerves still high from the earthquake, bounds toward us.

I don’t have my bow.

So I reach for the next best thing — the sword on the Seiryuu’s back.

It’s daring of me, stupid and reckless probably. He could kill me or turn me to stone for touching his precious sword.

But the wolf could kill me, too.

So I leap up and grab the hilt of the sword and pull it out of its sheath. It’s heavy, heavier than I thought it would be, but it feels good, also. I heft it in my hand and then, a cry tearing its way out of my throat, I meet the wolf halfway on its path to tear me apart.

It leaps straight for me, snarling — I see the whites of its eyes, its pinks gums and sharp yellow teeth aiming straight for me — and I dodge out of the way just in time. As it flies past me, the stink of its fur invading my nose, I thrust the sword into its side. The blade scrapes against its ribs, and I push it in deeper. The wolf yelps in pain and falls to the ground, blood pouring from its wound and seeping into the ground.

My limbs tremble and my heart pounds and for a few moments I stand over the dead wolf, the sword in my hand still embedded in the creature’s side.

Then, coming back to my senses, I yank at the sword — but it’s stuck, and the adrenaline rush I’d gotten from killing the wolf is fading, making my body feel heavier and heavier. A few more tugs, though, and I’m able to get the sword out and I lower it to the ground, panting.

The metallic scent of blood sticks to the sword even as I wipe it on the ground. I feel the Seiryuu staring at me during this whole process, but I’m unable to discern what he’s thinking, his emotions hidden behind his mask and all.

Speaking of masks . . . I realize I haven’t been wearing mine the whole time I’ve been with the Seiryuu. I cringe. Of course, the one time I wasn’t wearing it was the one time when I was supposed to be . . . to protect myself from his power.

But if I’m to be truthful, I’m glad I didn’t have it on. Because if I did, I wouldn’t truly be able to see his eyes.

Thankfully, I didn’t lose my mask during the earthquake as it was tied around my neck at the time. That’s good. It was my mother’s . . .

Once it’s as clean as I can get it, I turn back to the Seiryuu.

“Here,” I say, holding out his semi-spotless sword. “Now we’re even.”

He cocks his head and takes his sword, sliding it back into its sheath without a word. Then he glances back at the wolf and my gaze follows his.

I sigh. When I said I wanted to take something back to the village, I didn’t exactly have a white wolf in mind. On one hand, it would provide a great meal and I could make its fur into a coat or something. On the other hand, I hadn’t killed it very cleanly and it’s probably too heavy for me to carry all the way back to the village.

Unless . . . my gaze travels back to the Seiryuu.

He looks at me. Or, at least, his mask is turned toward me.

Then he nods, as if he knows what I’m thinking. He walks toward the dead wolf and picks it up easily, seeming oblivious to the blood leaking outside his body. He nods toward me again.

I guess I’m supposed to lead the way.

The walk back to the village is awkward, to say the least. The Seiryuu walks behind me, almost completely silent, save for the noise of the bells tied around his mask. Unlike Ki-Gun, he never missteps. Although I hadn’t known where I was before, it doesn’t take me too long to find the way back to the village. Once we’re a few tunnels away from the main area, though, I turn back to the Seiryuu.

I say, “Maybe you should . . .”

He nods (again?) and lays down the bloody wolf. Then he bows to me and runs off, the bells tinkling.

I let out a long breath.

I have no idea what to think.

* * *

 

“Wow! You caught that and brought it back all by yourself?”

“Ehh? N . . . yes.” I flush at my almost-mistake.

Ki-Gun beams at me. “That’s our little huntress. The pride of the village.”

“That’s not true,” I say, shaking my head. “I lost my bow during the earthquake.”

“What?” His eyes widen. “You were hunting during the earthquake? Were you hurt?”

“No, I —” I stop and catch myself again. “I’m fine, “ I say. “I wasn’t hurt.”

“Good,” he says. His eyes twinkle. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my soon-to-be wife.”

Disgust fills me, but I push it down and simply ignore him.

Ki-Gun and I are sitting in the cave that serves as the dining room. Most everyone in the village gathers here for dinner and most of them are here now, enjoying the fine meat of the wolf and the other animals the men of the village caught today. The fine smell had wafted through all the tunnels, calling everyone to the feast.

I feel a small swell of pride as I watch the small children smile as they see there’s just a bit more to eat tonight. It makes me happy to know that I helped with that.

“You should smile more, Ae-Sun,” Ki-Gun says, stuffing his mouth full with a potato. “You’re more beautiful that way.”

I scowl at him. None of us are wearing our masks right now, one of the few times we’re allowed not to, and Ki-Gun always makes the most of the opportunity.

“You should shut your mouth more,” I say. “It makes you more attractive.”

He laughs. “What a fierce tongue. I love that about you, Ae-Sun.”

“Shut up,” I mutter.

He leans across the table and brushes a finger across my cheek. His breath smells of the spices the women use to cook. He wraps my hair around his index finger and whispers, “When will you see, dear Ae-Sun, that I am simply the best you can get?”

I stand up abruptly and I feel the tug at my scalp from him playing with my hair, but I don’t care.

I gather up my plate of untouched food and say, “I’m going to eat in my room tonight.”

Ki-Gun smiles at me. He doesn’t look disappointed, but rather, he seems to think that I know what he just said is true and I am avoiding the fact by escaping. He seems to think that he has won.

Maybe it’s true.

As I walk back to my room, a form steps out from the shadows not touched by the torchlight. I freeze before I realize it’s my father.

“Father,” I say. “You scared me.”

“Ae-Sun,” he says, and his voice is stern.

“Father?” I try to make myself sound innocent, ignorant.

“I saw you rejecting Ki-Gun again,” he says. “You shouldn’t make such a scene. It does not reflect well on us elders.”

“I’m sorry, Father,” I say. “Maybe if Ki-Gun wasn’t so obvious —”

“Or maybe,” Father cuts through, “if you just accepted Ki-Gun to be your husband. Everything would be simpler.”

My fingers turn white as I grip my plate of food. Finally, I say, “I’ll think about it.”

“Very well.”

Father moves past me and back into the dining room. I stand still in the darkness for a few more moments. Then, a reckless urge coming over me, I start walking away from the direction of my room, and toward the one place where we are all told never to go.

* * *

 Holding my plate of food in one hand, I press my hand against the hidden wall. It slides open, my heart hammering at the loud grating noise, and I slip inside.

It’s completely dark and I am not familiar with the area, so I walk cautiously, slowing my steps so as to not drop the food. Finally, the tunnel widens out to a small round area that ends in a dead end. My eyes have become adjusted to the darkness now and I see a dark shape in the corner.

And I hear the slow, steady sound of his breathing.

And I can feel him looking at me, even if I cannot see it.

“I wanted to thank you again,” I say, “so I brought this.” I set the food down on the ground and slide it forward to him. “It’s probably cold now, I’m sorry. But . . . it’s from the wolf I killed today.”

I hope he’ll accept it as a peace offering. Maybe he’ll even talk to me. Maybe he’ll . . .

I shake my head at my own silliness.

Twelve years ago, after the little Seiryuu had taken out the group of soldiers and I’d seen his eyes, I’d developed a sort of fascination with him. When we journeyed to the mountains, I watched him the whole time. He always walked at the back of the group. No ever made sure he was still there, watched him to make sure he was safe, or helped him up when he fell. He looked so lonely that sometimes I just wanted to reach out and hug him; I wanted to say, “Hey, you can come walk with me.”

I never did.

But one time, I asked my father just one too many question about the Seiryuu, and he got angry. He yelled at me. He thought I was crazy. He asked me what happened to make me think that the Seiryuu was anything but evil and cursed and dangerous. I said nothing. How could I after that reaction? Besides, I’d held the secret of the Seiryuu’s eyes for so long, it felt too precious to give away.

After that, I decided I would stop thinking about him. I would stop fantasizing and dreaming about his eyes. I wouldn’t ask any more questions. Whatever obsession I’d had with the Seiryuu was over.

I told myself that, but I don’t think it ever really went away.

And now, staring at the dark form huddled before me, I know that some part of me has always been in love with the Seiryuu.

I push the plate of food forward a bit more and it scrapes against the cold stone, echoing and sounding way too loud in the quiet of the night. “It’s yours,” I say. “Thank you.”

I get the idea that he’s skeptical. Perhaps he thinks I’m going to poison him or something. I’m wondering if I should take a bite of it to prove it’s not when he suddenly darts forward and grabs the plate.

I jerk backward, startled.

The clattering of silverware against the plate. The sound of chewing and swallowing. And then . . . he slides the plate back toward me, completely clean.

I stare at it for a few moments.

Some part of me feels like laughing, the other part of me feels like crying.

What kind of monsters are my people to let this boy, a boy who is just my age, starve like this?

I have been hungry before, but never hungry like the boy before me so clearly is.

“I’ll bring you more,” I tell him.

And then I realize that that implies I’ll be coming again.

Something buzzes inside me. Happiness?

I stand up, deciding that’s enough for today, and turn to leave, when —

“Why . . . were . . . you running?”

So he can speak.

His voice is soft, slow and broken from disuse. But I decide it’s pleasant-sounding, likeable. That feeling inside me buzzes again.

I turn around. “What?”

He’s stood up, too, and he takes a few hesitant steps toward me, like he’s afraid I’ll run if he gets too close. I stay where I am, because I’m not afraid. Not of him.

“You said his name . . . ‘Ki-Gun.’ Did you wish it was him?”

I pause. “Are you asking me if I wished it was Ki-Gun who saved me?”

The Seiryuu nods.

I shake my head. “No,” I say. “No, never. I was running away from Ki-Gun because he was irritating me. No, I would never wish for it to be him.”

I step forward, until there are only a few spaces between us.

“In fact,” I say, my voice soft, “I’m glad it was you.”

I wish I could see under his mask, see what his expression is right now.

But as it turns out, I don’t have to.

Because the mask only covers half of his face; it only covers his eyes. And what he does next is not hidden:

He smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shin-Ah is so adorable, you guys. I'm sorry. I just can't. Anyhowww, what do you guys think so far? I'm actually not reading this story before I post it, so if there are any typos, or any critique you want to give me, feel free! I always love to improve on my writing. Thanks again for checking out this story and reading it!
> 
> ~ J. Dominique


	4. A Place in the Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm here with a new chapter! Quite a few things happen in this chapter, but I'll make my comments after you read it. This chapter's theme song is "A Place in the Sun for Hak," though, just so you know.

_Chapter 4_

_A Place in the Light_

* * *

 My father keeps a close eye on me for the next few days. He sits by me during mealtimes, which makes it hard to take food for the Seiryuu. But as soon as he turns his gaze away and begins to talk animatedly to a fellow villager, I’ll stuff some bread down into my bag I’d brought for “purposes,” and then smile innocently when he glances at me. Once he looks away again, I steal some meat. I do not care if it gets grease on the bag. It doesn’t really matter in the bigger picture.

And then I wait until night, when I’m sure most of the village is asleep and most of the lanterns have gone out. I slip out of my room, careful to be extra quiet when I pass my father’s room, and race to the Seiryuu’s cave, carrying the bag loaded with as much food as I could collect.

After two nights of this, I’m getting rather good at it. The first night I was so nervous that I immediately left after the Seiryuu finished eating. The second night I didn’t linger much longer, either.

This time, the third night, since the routine of the village seems pretty set and it doesn’t look like I’m going to be caught, I’ve decided to stay a bit longer.

The Seiryuu is waiting for me when I reach his cave.

“Hello,” I say and he nods in return, which seems to be his main form of communication.

I hand him the bag and he digs in, though not as quickly as the first time I’d given him food.

I sit down in front of him and once he’s done, silence stretches between us.

Then — there’s a squeak and something scurries past me.

I jerk and see something small race up the Seiryuu’s arm and to his shoulder.

“Is that . . . ?”

The Seiryuu glances at me and says, “Ao.”

“A-Ao?” My voice falters.

“I found her . . . a few days ago . . . She likes it here.”

I smile tentatively. “That’s good. Can I see her?”

He lifts her from his shoulder and upon closer inspection, I realize she’s a squirrel. In the dark, I hadn’t been sure. It could’ve been a rat for all I knew. In visiting the Seiryuu, I’ve noticed that he seems to have very few belongings. His sword is usually leaning against the wall (I suppose he only has it on him when he goes out) and on the ground he has a few blankets, but not much else, and no personal items that I can see. And there are no lanterns, so our meetings are always in darkness. He never seems to be bothered by the lack of light.

“Ao,” I say, and I reach forward to touch her, her small body still cradled in his hands. To my pleasure, she doesn’t resist, but rubs her head against my palm. My smile widens. “Ao. I like it.”

A hollow feeling stretches in the pit of my stomach and I suddenly feel awful.

“Do you . . . do you have a name?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I am only . . . the Seiryuu.”

I frown. “That’s not right. You should have a name. The previous Seiryuu did.”

The Seiryuu, if possible, goes even stiller.

I’m not quite sure what his relationship with Ao (not the squirrel) was, but I get the feeling that they were close. After all, they were the only two people who shared such a curse. How could they not relate to each other?

I say, “What would you like to call yourself?”

He shrugs.

I consider for a moment. “Are there any words you like?”

He shrugs again.

I pause. “Do you know how to read?”

There’s a very long silence.

Then he shakes his head and shivers.

I stand up; I’d been gone long enough. “All right,” I say. “I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

* * *

 The Seiryuu is a quick learner. A few nights into teaching him how to read and write and he’s already memorized all the characters and can nearly read full sentences.

“You’re amazing,” I say. “Do you know how long it took me to do this?”

For me to be able to teach him, I’d brought a torch into his cave. I don’t know much about his power other than the fact that it probably isn’t what we think it is, but from what I’ve gleaned, he has extremely good eyesight. He can see easily in the dark, but I can’t unfortunately, so I had to bring the light. I don’t think he minds, though.

And I prefer it, because when I compliment his learning skills, I can see the parts of his face that aren’t covered by his mask redden with embarrassment.

“How’s your vocabulary?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “Not . . . good. Not very many opportunities to learn . . . new words.”

“I see. Well, that’s okay. Anytime you don’t know the word for something, you can just ask me, okay?”

He nods. And immediately starts describing objects to me and asking me their names.

It makes me happy to see him so enthusiastic to learn . . . and it also really hurts to know that the reason why he is like this is because of people like my father. They view him as the monster, but he is not. They are the ones who are acting like monsters, isolating an innocent child who just wants to fit in.

I don’t know how much time passes, but the night has grown colder, the air damp and cool. I notice the Seiryuu shivering, his arms wrapped around his chest.

“Are you cold?” I ask him.

In answer, he shivers again.

I gather up the books I’d brought to teach him with and say, “I’d better go now. See you later.”

And for the first time, he replies, “See you later . . .”

I turn around and flash him a smile, but leave before I can see his reaction.

* * *

 When I get back to my room, I see the perfect solution to the-Seiryuu-is-perpetually-cold problem.

The pelt of the white wolf I’d killed is draped over the chair in my room. Ki-Gun had skinned the wolf for me and given me the fur to do with what I wished. I’d thrown it in my room and forgotten about it.

I finger the soft, now clean and blood-free fur of the wolf skin, and smile.

Then I set to work.

* * *

 I’d spent nearly the whole previous night working, but somehow I don’t feel tired as I walk toward the Seiryuu’s cave. I forego bringing the books with me, since my hands are full with the Seiryuu’s usual food and his new gift. Maybe it’s presumptuous of me, to give him something like this, but every time I question giving him the wolf fur, I see him shivering again. I see him in his near-empty cave. I see the monsters of the village who didn’t even bother to feed him or give him a blanket.

And the wolf pelt really is quite warm.

I think he’ll like it.

I hope he’ll like it.

When I reach his cave, he’s already standing, waiting for me. Ao, on his shoulder, squeaks at the sight of me.

He cocks his head at the sight of me carrying what probably appears to be a large furry blob.

I set down the bag of food and then I hold out the wolf pelt toward him. “For you,” I say.

When he continues staring at me, I explain with, “To keep you warm. You’re always shivering.”

He takes the white fur into his hands and stares at it. Ao immediately digs herself a little bed in the fur and curls up.

“See?” I say. “It’s very warm.”

He drops the fur to the ground — Ao indignantly shrieking — and lurches forward with a jangling of bells. I jerk back, out of instinct, but then I realize he’s not going to harm me — of course not.

He reaches toward me, a little slower and more hesitant this time, and places his hand on mine. “T-thank you . . . Ae-Sun.”

My heart skips a beat.

It’s the first time he’s used my name.

Up until now, I suppose I wasn’t really sure he even knew it.

But of course he would. He’s so watchful, so observant . . .

He used my name. He thanked me.

It makes me all the more determined to find the perfect name for him.

It’s in this moment that I realize he is holding my hand. He has not touched me since the day he’d saved me from the cliff. And I hadn’t really been paying attention to it that day . . . I glance down at his hand over mine, covered by the worn but sturdy fingerless gloves. His skin is warm, rough and smooth at the same time.

His hand . . . it’s warm . . . so much warmer than the wolf pelt. Alive.

Gently, I squeeze it, my fingers wrapping around his.

He looks down and his mouth opens slightly in surprise as if he hadn’t realized what he was doing.

I smile and I say, “Thank you, too.”

* * *

 The next night, when I reach his cave, he’s wearing the wolf pelt over his head, attached to his mask, like a sort of wig or something. I smile. “The moon is beautiful tonight. Would you like to take a walk?”

He tilts his head to the side, considering, then nods.

I lead the way. Even though it’s dark, the torches having been put out at night, I can tell he’s following me by the sound of his bells. It comforts me, to know he’s nearby.

My feet lead me on a familiar pathway to the outside. Each fault in the ground and curved line in the walls is ingrained in my brain; I close my eyes and run my hand along the cool stone, breathing in the stale air. My heart beats for the outside and my pace quickens, my eyes still closed. I wonder if the Seiryuu could navigate these mazes with his eyes closed as well, then shake my head at my own silliness. Of course he could.

As we approach the entrance to the outside, marked by the patch of moonlight shining on the ground, there’s a squeak behind me and the tinkle of bells. Ao darts past me toward the spot of light. She carries the bells in her mouth and when she reaches the moonlight, she drops them there.

The Seiryuu stops beside me. I glance at him, at his stiffened stance and his stark profile.

“What . . . what is the name for that?” he asks.

“Moonlight?” I say. “It’s called ‘Shin-Ah.’”

There’s a short pause as the Seiryuu stares at the silvery light. His jaw tightens and relaxes. “Ao . . . ,” he says and his voice seems softer than usual.

The squirrel squeaks again.

I move forward a few steps and reach down to gather the bells. They catch the moon’s rays and throw bits of light around the cave’s walls, highlighting all the cracks that I know by heart.

I walk back to the Seiryuu and tie the bells back onto his mask’s horn, my hands brushing against the side of his face, wisps of his hair. Quietly, I say, “Ao is telling you your name, right?”

“Ao . . .” he says. I’m not sure if he’s talking to the squirrel or the previous Seiryuu.

“I like it,” I say with a note of finality. “It fits you. Shin-Ah. What do you think?”

He tilts his face toward me. “Shin-Ah,” he repeats. Then he moves forward to the opening of the cave. For a moment, he just stares out into the night. I take in this view of him: how he is standing, straight and tall, not exactly confident, but somehow sure of himself; how his mask rests against his face and the white fur of the wolf hangs around him, like a cloak; how the moonlight shines on him, making him seem brighter and more beautiful than I ever could’ve imagined. I want to capture this moment forever, lock it away in my heart, to keep only for me.

The Seiryuu . . . no, Shin-Ah crouches down next to the squirrel and whispers, “Ao, my name is Shin-Ah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few notes on the developments of this chapter . . . for one, we never exactly know if Shin-Ah can read in the manga or not. I don't think it's mentioned, but I thought it would be detrimental to him if he couldn't, so that's why I'm having Ae-Sun teach him. For another, it's also never said why Shin-Ah has his furry white thing, so I thought I'd add a sentimental explanation for it. 
> 
> Lastly, like I said before, this story was going to be a little AU. Obviously, in the manga, it's Yona that names Shin-Ah. However, this story takes place two years before Yona comes, and I didn't want to continually call him "Seiryuu," so . . . 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading chapter four! If you want (I'd be ever so pleased), let me know what you think! I hope you're enjoying it so far! 
> 
> ~ J. Dominique


	5. Melancholy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is "Akatsuki-no-Yona (Melancholy Version)". Enjoy!

_Chapter 5_

_Melancholy_

* * *

It has been two months since that first night when I visited Shin-Ah in his cave and gave him my meal. Two months since I’ve been sneaking out of my room each night, teaching him new words, or sometimes simply talking to him . . . not that he exactly talks much, though he has gotten more comfortable with it.

But today, it seems, will be the first day I will not get to see him.

Because today is a celebration and the whole village will be up all night with the festivities.

Dak-Ho and Hea, two people only a few years older than me, just married. During the ceremony earlier today, when they took off each other’s masks, I could see the wonder and the stars in their eyes. There was a collective sigh throughout the room, and I was probably one of them.

I think everyone in the room understood that here was a couple who truly loved each other. Two people who would do anything for each other, cross the whole world, buy the earth’s riches, give up their lives, just if it meant the other’s happiness and well-being. True love. Which, in a small village like ours, wasn’t very common.

_Is it too much to ask?_ I wondered as the ceremony progressed. _Is it too much to ask for true love?_

I glanced over at Ki-Gun, who sat beside me. He was already looking at me intently and I could see from his gaze that he was telling me that he wanted us to be next. That he thought, without a doubt, we _would_ be next.

Now, as the newly-married couple dance around in the middle of the room, and the rest of our people cheer for them, I close my eyes. I let the scents of spiced meat and sweet pastries drift around me (I wish the smells would entice me); the rumble of the crowd flow over me (I try to let their laughter and happiness meld with my own emotions); and I take in the lavish decorations that the women of the village put so much hard work into (I appreciate them, but I wish I thought they were more beautiful . . .).

Right now, more than anything, I wish that he was here.

Shin-Ah.

It seems now that I only live for the nights that I’m with him. It feels like the daytimes are just a chore, something I have to muddle through until I can see him. Only then, when I’m standing in his dark cave, Ao at our sides, does everything around me seem brighter, more appealing, and I, too, feel alive. Complete. Free.

“What’s that melancholy face for?” Ki-Gun approaches me, holding a glass of who-knows-what in his hand.

He proffers it to me, but I wave it away. “No thank you,” I say. “I was just thinking.”

“About?” he presses.

“Nothing.” I turn my face away and check my mask. His own is missing as usual. I barely remember what it looks like. My own mask is fairly simple, but unusual in its own way. Most of the villagers’ masks cover their full face, whereas mine is a half mask like Shin-Ah’s. It has two pointed ears, the eyes are outlined with red, and there is a gold line rippled across the brow. Father told me that Mother made it herself for me to wear when I was older . . . when she died, I put it on right away, even though it was too big for my small child’s face.

I’ve grown into it now, but some part of me dreads the time when I have to take it off. When I marry.

“You’re frowning again, Ae-Sun,” Ki-Gun says in a sing-songy voice.

I glare at him. “Probably because I can see you.”

He clucks his tongue at me. “So vicious. How I love that of you, my darling.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Come,” he says and he holds out his hand. “Let’s join the party. Dance with me.”

I look around and notice that other people, married or not, have now joined the newlyweds and are laughing and smiling as they spin each other around. The colors and noise f the party whirl around in my brain, dizzying me.

Every part of me wants to refuse.

But I place my hand in Ki-Gun’s. I notice how it is cold, almost slimy. So unlike . . .

No, stop thinking about him.

Ki-Gun leads me toward the dances. A few of the villagers who are gifted musicians play a lively tune in the corner, their feet tapping and hands zipping across their instruments, their lips stretched into wide smiles. Ki-Gun winds his arm around my waist, too tight, and sways me to the beat of the drums. Bile rising in my throat, I let him. He hums along to the music and there’s a grin on his face as he looks down at me.

I can’t decide what is more foolish of me: dancing with Ki-Gun and showing everyone the fact. Or that I’m still denying that I can ever live a life that doesn’t involve marrying him.

Ki-Gun pauses the dance briefly and leans closer. His breath is hot on my cheek and he smells of sweat. I resist from cringing and pulling away as he reaches a finger out and tugs at the string holding my mask in place.

“No,” I say out of habit.

“Come now, Ae-Sun,” he says, his voice lilting and teasing. “It’s just me.”

But no . . .

A shiver runs down my spine.

I glance away from him, toward one of the many exits of the large celebration room. I see a flash of light and I can almost swear I hear a ringing of bells.

_Impossible . . ._

“Excuse me,” I say to Ki-Gun. I ignore his shout of surprise, his calling of my name, and the shooting of pain as he pulls at my hair — I run.

Once I leave the lights of the party, I’m immediately plunged into darkness. But I know this corridor well and I don’t need torches to know where I’m going. I move as quickly as I can, and as my eyes become more adjusted, I can just barely see a shadowy form up ahead.

“Shin-Ah!” I cry out.

The shape stops and I see it turn around. I hear bells.

I sigh in relief.

Then I say, “Please. I’m sorry. That’s not what it looked like. I just . . .”

“You looked . . . sad,” he says. His voice sounds somewhat hollow, echoing across the cave.

I tilt my head. “You noticed that? Even though I was wearing my mask? Yes. Yes, I was . . . sad. I don’t want . . . I don’t want to . . .”

I choke and try to stop the tears that have suddenly started to appear. Why am I crying? Because I finally realized that I’ll never escape a life with Ki-Gun? Something I should’ve known for forever?

Or is it because . . . ?

I lift my mask momentarily and swipe at my face, angry at myself. Then I glance toward Shin-Ah — only to realize he’s moved closer without me realizing. He’s so quiet.

“Ao,” he says, and the squirrel moves from his shoulder to mine.

I nuzzle my cheek against the small creature’s soft fur and let out a strangled laugh as a wild idea appears. “Will you do me a favor, Shin-Ah?” I ask.

“Yes.” The reply comes without hesitation.

“Please, dance with me. I want to . . . I want to erase the memory of Ki-Gun from my mind. I want to replace it with something good. Will you . . . ?”

Again, at times like these, I wish I could see his eyes, gauge his reaction.

He nods — I can’t tell if he’s pleased with the idea or not. Perhaps he’s just obliging because he said he would. Then, he takes my hand and leads me farther away from the party.

I revel in the feeling of his fingers against mine. Soft, warm, alive. So different from Ki-Gun’s. A touch I could learn to crave. A touch I possibly already do crave.

We walk for a few minutes until we reach a wider, empty area with a flat floor. I smile. Of course he would know a perfect dance room.

I turn to face him and see that he’s lighting one of the torches that had already been placed on the wall. For me, of course. Ao squeaks and leaps off my shoulder as the fire bursts to life.

Shin-Ah steps toward me now. His movements are always fluid, the well-practiced actions of a swordsman, but right now he moves slowly, hesitantly. Shyly.

“Do you know how to dance?” I ask him.

“I was . . . watching,” he says.

I’m about to tell him that watching isn’t really the same when he closes the distance between us and wraps his arms around my waist. He pulls me in, brings me closer, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

_That’s right. I’d forgotten that his observations skills are entirely different than a normal person’s._

I lift my face up to his. Both of us are masked. I cannot see his eyes, but I get the strange feeling that he can see mine.

Together, we both start to dance at the same time, in tune to a silent song — or perhaps a song with notes and lyrics that only the two of us can understand. A melody with a harmony threaded in, a story told through the pounding of rain, an earthquake’s rumbling, darkness’s quiet, the sound of words, bells jingling, and the sheen of moonlight.

Somewhere, far away, I can hear the crackling of the flames. Far away, I can hear the sounds of the party, the smells of the celebration food. Somewhere, far away, I can still feel all the troubles of my father pressing me to marry Ki-Gun.

But here, just here, all I know is his slow, steady breathing. The warm, gentle pressure of his hands against my waist. The scent of the sky and the mountains on him. How very near he is to me.

We both slow, out of some mutual understanding.

I close my eyes and lay my head on his chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath. I wonder how long it has been since he has had someone this close to him. Since the last Seiryuu died?

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper to him. “I’m making such a big deal out of my own problems . . . you must have it so much worse. It’s wrong of me, isn’t it? To ask you to comfort me when you . . .”

He moves my head gently off him, his fingers tender against my face, and I wonder if I’ve just offended him further.

I glance up, but once again, I can discern nothing from his face.

He shakes his head.

I frown. “What?”

“No,” he says slowly and he grips my hands for a moment. “Don’t be sorry. I want to make you . . . happy. Why were you sad?”

I stop briefly to consider this new revelation. He wants to make me happy? What is that supposed to mean?

“I have to marry Ki-Gun,” I say, “and I don’t want to.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to . . . see the world. I want to travel to as many places as I can, experience as much as I can, meet as many people as I can. . . . That’s all I’ve ever wanted. But here, you can’t do that. Here, my only option is to marry Ki-Gun . . .”

There’s silence.

And I realize what I’ve just said.

“I’m sorry,” I gasp. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean it like that —”

“The villagers,” he says and he glances off to the side. “They stay because of me, right? You’re stuck here . . . because of me?”

Well, that is basically it.

And I can’t lie to him, so I nod.

He bows his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Please, don’t be.” I reach out and touch his arm. “It’s not your fault. It’s this village. They see you as a curse. They don’t understand. They don’t understand you at all.”

“I don’t understand either,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“My power . . . it is a curse.”

“Don’t say that,” I say. “Don’t say that.”

“It is,” he says, and his voice is persistent. “It is a curse. That is what Ao told me.”

I hold back tears again.

Monsters. We are monsters. Making this boy, and generations of boys before him think they are cursed, personifications of evil.

“Shin-Ah,” I say gently.

He continues on. “I don’t know . . . what to do with it. I don’t know why . . . it was me. . . .”

I blink a few times. He doesn’t know?

_Of course he doesn’t know._

_But you do. You could tell him._

But if I told him the legend of the four dragons . . . he would know his destiny. He would know he was born for something, for greatness. Sometime, he’d be carried off by a great king, and I would be left here. With Ki-Gun.

I can’t bear the thought.

And so, selfish as it is, I don’t tell him.

Because whatever Shin-Ah — the Seiryuu — and I have right now . . . it is too precious for me, and I will do nearly anything to keep it the way it is.

I say, “I don’t think you’re cursed.”

He turns to look at me and even though I can’t see his eyes, I can tell he’s confused, a little stunned.

“I’ve seen your eyes,” I go on. “And they’re beautiful. I’ve thought this to myself many times, and now I will tell you: I don’t think anything as beautiful as you could be cursed.”

I hear a squeak below me and I glance at the source of the noise. Reaching down, I pick up Ao and hand her over to Shin-Ah who takes her numbly, still staring at me, his mouth slightly agape.

“And Ao doesn’t think so either,” I say firmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, we get a bit more of romantic action here! Hehe. Thank you to all the people who have read this so far. 
> 
> ~ J. Dominique


	6. Peaceful Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based off the song "Peaceful Days in Kouka Kingdom." And in case any of you are wondering why I'm giving you these songs, it's because some of the songs really fit the mood (I mean, that is why I chose them). And the songs themselves are great, too. Akatsuki no Yona has a great soundtrack. (Anime in general has great music.) So anyway, I totally recommend them (though this particularly song isn't my favorite of the soundtrack).

_Chapter 6_

_Peaceful Days_

* * *

“Have you decided, then?” Father says as greeting the next morning as he comes into my room. “Did Ki-Gun propose to you last night?”

I straighten from my bed, smooth my hair. Father’s eyes sweep across the room and mine follow his. It’s simple, with only a bed covered by a worn blue blanket, a chipped dresser, and a few necessities such as clothes and the new bow Ki-Gun had given me scattered about. Then I notice the books I’d used to teach Shin-Ah reading and writing still lying out, and my chest tightens. Quickly I move my gaze away and hope my father doesn’t question them.

“No,” I say.

“To which question?”

“Both.”

Father stares down at me, clearly incensed. “Didn’t you tell me you were going to ‘think about it’ nearly two months ago?”

“I did,” I say, “and I have been. But it’s only been a couple of months, Father. That’s really not very long, you know. Give me more time, please.”

He sighs. “I love you very much, you know, Ae-Sun,” he says.

I don’t answer. My eyelids feel heavy, and my mind even more so. I barely slept last night, my thoughts whirling from what I’d said to Shin-Ah. And what he’d said to me. I let out a deep breath. The day is already off to a shining start.

“You and Ki-Gun are the village’s pride and joy,” Father continues. “With his talent for the sword and yours for the bow, you would make a great team. You could also both make good leaders. He has the charm and you have the wit. It’s a perfect match, Ae-Sun. Everyone approves. Just why can’t you be more compliant? Why can’t you just say yes to Ki-Gun?”

_Because it’s not what I want._

_Because every time I think of Ki-Gun, my mind immediately goes to another person. Another boy. One you’d certainly never approve of, Father._

I don’t say anything, just finger the edge of the blanket on my bed. The whole in the faded fabric widens.

“By the way,” Father says, his voice nonchalant, “I went to check in on the Seiryuu the other day. He wore the pelt of a white wolf over his head.”

I freeze. My heart thumps.

“Didn’t you catch a white wolf not too long ago?”

I nod, but my whole body feels numb. Father stares down at me, his face cool and measured, and I try to arrange my own features into a blank, disinterested expression.

“There must be quite a few of them out right now,” Father muses and he leaves.

I let loose a breath and lean back onto my bed, staring up at the stone ceiling. I note the cracks, the lines, the ones I’ve long past memorized.

How stupid I’d been to give that white wolf pelt to Shin-Ah. Of course it could be traced back to me. But I wasn’t thinking clearly then. All that occupied my thoughts was what his reaction would be. I _wanted_ to give it to him. I didn’t think of anything else.

Has Father made the connection? Does he know? Is he threatening me?

I know Father does do routine check-ins on the Seiryuu, but not because he truly cares. Only because it’s his obligation as an elder. He never talks about them to me, though, and most definitely never talks about Shin-Ah’s taste in fashion.

But how in the world would he know about our nighttime visits? And if he knew about them . . . surely he wouldn’t keep quiet. Surely he would punish me as soon as he found out.

Wouldn’t he?

I’m not so sure.

Father has always been a sort of an enigma to me. I know he and Mother married much in the way that Ki-Gun and I will be forced to marry. And I know that he was chosen to be one of the elders because of his vicious, ruthless streak.

I would not put it past Father to ignore me breaking one of the rules if he saw that he could use it to his advantage. To blackmail me into marrying Ki-Gun.

I close my eyes.

_No . . . please, no . . ._

My eyes fly open, a sudden surge of energy and anger flowing through me. I stand up, square my shoulders, and grab my replacement bow which leans against my bed. Ki-Gun had made it for me not too long ago when he’d learned I’d lost my old one. It still feels unfamiliar in my hands and it’s yet to be worn into, but it’s a decent enough bow.

Throwing the corresponding quiver of arrows over my back, I also snatch a bag of snacks, fix my mask onto my face, and then I head out.

I need a distraction.

* * *

A few hours later and I have two birds and a rabbit. It’s past lunchtime now and the heat of the day pounds upon me, causing rivulets of sweat to pour down my face, neck, and back. Deciding to take a break, I lay my catch in the nearest of what I call my “meat coolers,” then find a shady spot in the vicinity to rest and bring out snacks.

When I’ve settled comfortably against the side of the mountain (or as much as I can with all the pebbles and twigs and lumpy dirt), I pull off my mask. It’s slick with sweat. I grimace at it. I’m not sure why I was even wearing it — usually when I’m outside and hunting, I’ll keep it off because it hinders my vision. Or just because I find it irksome, confining.

Maybe I’m trying to see from Shin-Ah’s point-of-view, though. Living your life under a mask . . .

As if my thoughts had summoned him, I hear the ringing of bells. I start and the mask slips from my fingers and clatters to the ground.

“Shin-Ah,” I say, “don’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry,” he says, and he pokes his head into my line of vision. Unlike me, he doesn’t seem to be hot at all, and he even has the wolf pelt on him, with Ao nestled into it like usual. I shake my head slightly and smile.

“How are you?” I ask.

He nods and I take that as he’s good.

“You want something to eat?” I say, which I suppose is sort of a stupid question. I scoot to the side, pebbles rolling to the ground as I move, and offer him a place beside me. He hesitates a moment before sitting down. I notice that there is still a copious amount of space between us, but don’t say anything about it.

Last night was odd. Different. That was for sure. There is a hum in the air and I haven’t quite decided what it means — I think it’s good, but for right now, I’m fine with him being cautious.

I hand him a few pieces of dried meat and some bread and cheese, and he takes it gratefully with a murmured thank you. Ao wakes up long enough to also accept some food from me (like him, she sends to have an endless appetite).

For a few moments, we eat in silence. It seems to be a habit of ours.

Then, to my surprise, he is the first to speak up. “Do you . . . do this a lot?”

“Hunt?” I clarify.

He nods.

I shrug. “The village always needs more food, so I guess so. I mean, there’s not a lot else I enjoy doing in my free time.” I spread my arms — there’s enough distance between us that I can fully reach out without touching him at all — and wiggle my fingers.

He glances at me. “Nothing else?”

I wrinkle my brow. “When I was younger, my father tried to get me to learn the ways of being a respectable young woman. I had to learn how to sew and cook and all that. It was awful. . . . See, I love being outside. I love the mountains and the fresh air, the thrill of the hunt. I guess Ki-Gun saw this because he saw me enduring another torture session and got me out of that by asking me if I wanted to learn how to fight. I wasn’t great at the sword, but I quickly picked up on the bow.” I laugh a little at myself. “Father kept trying to get me back to ‘what a woman should do,’ but it was a lost cause.” I turn to Shin-Ah and see him frowning. “I . . . are you all right?”

“So . . . ,” he begins slowly, “Ki-Gun saved you?”

_“What?”_

“You said . . . you were being tortured.”

There’s a pause.

And then I start laughing.

Shin-Ah’s mouth opens slightly in puzzlement.

I lean over to him, my chest still shaking with laughter. “It was just an exaggeration. I wasn’t really being tortured. An exaggeration . . . it means that I was just making it sound worse than it was to put emphasis on it.”

“Oh.” He relaxes.

I smile at him. “There are a lot of confusing things like that in the language. I’m sorry. I’ll try not to use too many of them.”

He shakes his head. “No. I want . . . to learn. I need . . . more practice. ”

“Right. . . .” My smile broadens. “Of course.” There are a few more moments of silence before I stand up and stretch. “So,” I ask, breaking the quiet, “what do you do in your free time? I hardly ever see you out.”

He stands up beside me, not saying a word, and walks a few steps farther out. Then, nearly faster than my eye can see, he whips his sword out and — I see a flash of reddish-gray fur and then there’s a high-pitched squeal of pain.

I bound over to Shin-Ah’s side to see a dead fox lying on the ground, a clean swift blow to its neck endings its life immediately.

“How did you know that was there?” I ask, stunned. Even my hunter senses hadn’t detected the animal.

He taps his mask. Of course.

“That’s amazing,” I say. “So this is what you do in your free time, huh?”

He nods. “Practice.”

“Right . . .”

“But not only hunting . . . ,” he continues.

“You swordfight, too, right?” I ask.

He nods.

“Wow,” I say, impressed. Then, an insane idea going through me, I ask, “Can you teach me?”

“W . . . what?”

“The sword,” I say. I glance down, my cheeks suddenly flaring red. “Can you . . . I mean, would you mind teaching me how to fight with the sword? Ki-Gun tried once, but he’s not the best teacher and I’ve never really been very good at it.”

Silence.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I say quickly. “It’s okay. I don’t have to learn it, I —”

“I will . . . teach you.”

I stop my rambling and look up at him. “R-really?”

He nods.

“Thank you!”

The corners of his lips tilt up ever so slightly, and I am glad, so glad, that his mask does not hide that part of his face that a smile of my own forms.

* * *

The next day, Shin-Ah and I meet in a small clearing on the mountains that has plenty of flat space for movement. There are a few trees that provide shade, sunlight filtering through the green leaves, and the ground is smooth, packed dirt. A perfect environment for fighting. I’d brought my own sword along, a simple weapon with a leather-covered hilt and a short blade. It’s not a great sword, which is probably why it was given to me, but it’s still serviceable.

Ao squeaks and runs around the clearing, most likely trying to find some food. I glance over at Shin-Ah, who still has his own sword in its sheath, and is looking at me, his stance easy and relaxed. In contrast, my body is stiff, tense and nervous. I wish I knew _how_ he was looking at me.

“So,” I say, “what do you want to do first?”

He tilts his head slightly, then says, “Show me what you can do.”

“What?”

He doesn’t provide any further explanation, which is very like him I’ve come to learn.

I still remember a few things from when Ki-Gun taught me, so I decide to start with those. I crouch into the fighting position he’d shown me, weighing my sword in my hands. The balance is a bit off and it’s still a little heavy in my hands as I haven’t built up the proper arm strength yet to wield it.

Stepping forward and getting a better grip on my sword, I do a few practice swings. The blade feels clumsy in my hands and my cheeks burn, knowing how stupid I must look to an experienced swordsman like Shin-Ah.

I straighten and turn to him. “Ahh . . .”

He’s by my side in an instant and I nearly fall backwards and impale myself with my own sword. “Your stance . . . ,” he says, as if that’s an explanation.

“Yes, it’s awful,” I agree.

He glides his hand along my back and I shiver despite myself. “Straight posture,” he says slowly, watching me correct each offending part as he goes, “shoulders back . . . knees slightly bent . . . feet apart. . . . Balance yourself.”

He lays his hand on my shoulder and I tense up. “Relax,” he says, his voice low. “Not enough to let your guard down . . . but relax. . . .”

I let out a breath and slowly will my body to loosen. His hands slide down to where my fingers are clenched around the hilt. He carefully rearranges my fingering on the handle, his own fingers quick and nimble against my frozen ones. I hadn’t even realized I’d messed up the grip; my cheeks redden again. And I’m almost too embarrassed to notice his touch, his closeness. Almost.

“Now . . . ,” he says and he takes out his own sword. “Attack.”

I close my eyes briefly and when I open them, I let instinct fuel me and leap toward him. With Shin-Ah’s corrections to my stance, I immediately feel the difference. However, the different things to remember jumble around in my mind, making me less coordinated.

Lifting my blade up, I dart forward, swinging it down at him, and he blocks it easily, of course. Making sure to keep myself balanced, I back up a bit, measuring out my footsteps, and try again, aiming lower. I try a few more unsuccessful hits, before he starts going on the offense and I clumsily attempt to defend myself, bringing my blade up just in time to deflect his blows.

His style is smooth and effective, no movement or breath wasted. It’s also beautiful. If I didn’t feel like I was about to trip any moment, I would want to watch him closer and drink the whole thing in. (Plus, I know he’s holding back, too. What would it be like to watch him using his full strength?)

Finally, he pulls to a stop and I lower my sword, panting. My arms ache and I feel entirely loosened up now. Streams of sweat pour down my body; I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. Irritatingly, Shin-Ah doesn’t seem to be hot or even tired.

“It takes practice,” he says.

“Yeah,” I say. “Thanks for using up your time to teach me. I know I must be a lot of work.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Hey, do you want me to teach you archery?” I say. “Or do you already know how to shoot? I’ve never seen you use the bow before, though, so I thought maybe . . .”

He shakes his head, the bells tinkling. “No. Thank you, but no.”

I blink a few times, surprised at his firmness. “Oh. You’d probably be good at it, though, right? You have good eyesight, don’t you?”

His jaw tightens and he says, “Ao used a sword.”

And that seems to be the end of it.

After a few more bouts of practice, we decide to be done for the day. I take out some snacks that I’d brought and offer it to him and Ao (as in the squirrel who seems to be perpetually hungry).

“So Ao taught you the sword?” I ask casually.

Shin-Ah nods as he tears into his food, almost as perpetually hungry as his squirrel.

“You’re really good with it,” I say.

“T-thank you.” His cheeks color.

I smile. “Were you two close?”

There’s a long pause and finally he says, “Yes. Ao . . . didn’t just teach me how to fight . . . he taught me everything else.”

I fall quiet. “I see. It must’ve been hard for you then. . . . My mom died around the same time. She and I were close, too. I really miss her.”

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“It’s okay,” I say. I stare out over the mountain’s edge, out into the world. It’s still midmorning and the mountains are always a bit foggy, so mist covers the horizon, hiding the mysteries of the outside world from me.

I bring my legs up and place my chin on my knees. “Do you ever wonder what’s out there?” I ask. “My mom used to tell me stories, of fantastical things . . . I don’t think any of them were true. I wish I could see the world, though. I’ve heard the Water Tribe is beautiful. The Earth Tribe is the most entertaining. The Wind Tribe has the most spirit. And I’d love to visit Castle Hiryuu, maybe even see the royal family.” I chuckle at my own foolishness. “Ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“I hope you get to see it someday, Ae-Sun,” he says, his voice quiet.

I turn to look at him, surprised.

He points through the fog and says, “There’s a long stream that goes all the way down from this mountain. If you follow it, it will take you to the closest village.”

“Have you ever been there?” I ask, my interest piqued.

He shakes his head. “I’ve only seen it,” he says. “It’s . . . different there . . . easier.” He shakes his head again as if he can’t adequately describe it, but I think he just has.

Easier. Yes. I would suspect a lot of villages would be easier.

I close my eyes momentarily, wonder about that village, about the people who live there and the lives they live. _Easier._ Then I say, “Shin-Ah, exactly how far can you see?”

I’m greeted with a few seconds of silence. Finally, he says, “A few miles?” The words sound almost like a question.

I gasp. _“A few miles?”_

He cringes beside me and I notice his cheeks are bright red. Something flares inside me, something like happiness and . . . I feel the sudden urge to reach out, to touch his cheeks and feel the heat in them. My own cheeks become warm and I blink at my thoughts, at the wild pounding inside my chest.  

“I’m sorry,” I say, burying the strange urge deep inside me. “It’s just . . . that’s amazing. I didn’t know you could see _that_ far.”

He shrugs as if, _Well, yeah, I can._

I stretch my arms out, out to the world before us, and gaze at the misty lands. “Wow, I just keep finding out more and more amazing things about you, huh?” A grin spreads on my face. “I can’t wait to find out more.” I turn back around to face him, words and sentences and barely-shaped dreams forming on my lips, but I forget what I’m going to say. And I don’t end up saying anything at all.

His cheeks are still pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on something in this chapter: Shin-Ah mentions a village . . . well, obviously, we're never told how far the Seiryuu's village is from any other. But since no one really keeps tabs on Shin-Ah (that we know of), I didn't think it too hard to believe that he could've slipped out and gone exploring for a few days, and then spied on the village with his eyes. Also, I believe we don't know exactly how far he can see, but it's obviously a long ways, enough to see sharp details as well (and he can even see through substances like wood and cloth), so I don't think a few miles is pushing it. 
> 
> This chapter (and the next few) was not originally in the story, but then I decided I needed more substance and relationship-building between them, so I added a few things. You'll get a little action next chapter (teaser!). 
> 
> Oh, and random thought: this is the longest chapter yet! (Though not the longest chapter of the story . . . that's like chapter eight.) Not that it really matters. . . . 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! 
> 
> ~ J. Dominique


	7. Competition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll be exploring a bit more of the village now and get some action (not a lot, 'cause I'm not that good at action scenes, and this isn't even an action story). This chapter's song is "YUMIKURABE" which loosely translates to "Archery Competition." There isn't any archery in this chapter, so I just took the competition part of the name. Anyway, enjoy!

_Chapter 7_

_Competition_

* * *

The next two months are full of learning and practice — whether it’s with the sword or the word. Since Shin-Ah can read most everything now, I’m saddened by the village’s measly library. We’ve never had the money or resources to spend on increasing our book stock — not to mention we’re in such an isolated place — so academics has always been a low priority. I, on the other hand, have much improved on the art of sword fighting, if I do say so myself. While I still can’t rival Shin-Ah, I can at least hold my own.

The warm, long days of the spring and summer are growing to a close and the daylight is receding earlier and earlier. On the last day of summer, the village always celebrates by having the biggest festival of the year at the base of the mountain. There’re games for the children, baking and crafts contests for the women, and, of course, fighting competitions for the men. Feasts and dancing and partying till dawn. It’s a time everyone anticipates.

I, too, for the first time in my life since Mother died, am looking forward to it. Because I am planning to invite the village’s very own Seiryuu to come with me.

* * *

“Shin-Ah!” I call, announcing myself before striding into his cave.

I find him leaning against the wall, Ao in his lap. When he sees me, he glances up, a question on his lips; it’s unusual for me to be here in the daytime.

“I’m here to ask you to come with me,” I say. “To the festival today.”

Silence. Ao starts to nibble at his fingers.

I try for a softer approach, realizing that I’d pretty much commanded him to come. “I mean . . . I’d like for you to come with me to the festival today. Would you . . . would you like to?”

“You . . . want me to go to the festival with you?”

He sounds completely bewildered.

I nod and move closer to him, crouching down to tickle under Ao’s chin. “Yes,” I say. “That’s what I want.” I smile at Ao, and then up at Shin-Ah. “You’ve watched it before, haven’t you? I’m sure you can see it, with your eyes. But . . . it’s not as fun that way. Come with me. See it up close.”

His head tilts to the side and the bells ring. “But . . . the people . . . they won’t like me being there.”

“It’s okay,” I say. “They don’t have to know you’re there. The area is surrounded by trees so we can stay off at the edge. Maybe sneak in and grab some snacks. It’ll be great. And if they do see you . . .” I shrug. “They should know you’re not going to hurt them. They should _already_ know that.”

Ao continues chewing on his fingers.

“So, what do you think?” I ask him. I stare into his eyes — or at least where the eyes are on his mask.

His chest heaves. Up and down. “All right,” he says finally.

I grin. “Great.” I rise up and offer him a hand. He grasps it and a rush of heat runs through me. “This will be so much fun, I promise.”

At my own wide smile, I see the corners of his lips turn up.

* * *

The festival is already in full swing when we arrive. Thanks to Shin-Ah’s abilities, we’d managed to stay out of people’s sight as we made our way down the mountain, hiding in the curves of the pathway and darting behind boulders and trees whenever he saw someone turn our way. I know my plan isn’t solid, but what I said to him was true. It shouldn’t matter if they see him.

What I want today is to be with him and to have fun.

That’s all.

The celebration that’s been days in the making looks wonderful. Although the village is fairly small, we still can have a respectable party when we put our minds to it. The area we set aside for the festival is split into three different sections: the one on the right for games and contests, marked by colorful stands and plenty of shouting; the one in the center for food and socializing, already crammed with a wide, mismatched assortment of tables and chairs; and the one on the left for the sparring and other such competitions. People mill around all three, laughing and cheering their loved ones on. Children run through the crowds, carrying (and spilling) food all around. Some men on the fighting stage are already warming up, swinging their swords from side to side and trying to look intimidating.

The smell of meat roasting, fresh-baked bread, and spices rises into the air, mixing with the clean scent of the outside. I breathe in deeply. “I’m going to get some food,” I say to Shin-Ah as we hover near a copse of trees, the hum and excitement of the day fueling our tense, nervous bodies. “Do you want some?”

He nods and I suspect that his eyes are wide right now, taking in the sight before him.

It really is different close up.

When I enter the thick crowd of people, I immediately feel like I’ve been swallowed up. I squeeze my way through, pushing politely, and eventually find a table packed full of delicacies that start my mouth watering. I load a plate full of the food (it would be suspicious if I got two plates), but as I’m about to head back, I bump into none other than Ki-Gun.

“Ae-Sun!” he cries out over the loud buzzing of the people. “You’re late! I thought maybe you were gonna skip out.” He wraps his arm around me and pulls me close and away from the mass of people, parting through them easily.

“Come now,” I say, my voice as light and friendly as I can make it. “We all know it’s nearly sacrilegious to skive out on today.”

He laughs. “Too right you are.” He glances down at my plate, at the abundant amounts piled high. “A little hungry, are we?”

I glance down as well and feel my face flush. “I didn’t eat anything for breakfast,” I say, which is true enough. I’d been too excited for today. For Shin-Ah, at least.

He laughs again and squeezes my shoulder. “Well, it is a special day. As long as you don’t always eat like this, I don’t care. But we have enough food for today, I think.”

I cast my gaze over to where I’d left Shin-Ah and hope that Ki-Gun will start talking to someone else soon.

“I’m going to enter the sword fighting competition,” he says as he twirls a piece of my hair between his fingers. “Will you come watch me?”

“Sure,” I say — anything to get him to leave.

It works. “Great!” he says, grinning broadly. “I’ll see you later, Ae-Sun.”

I don’t even bother to say good-bye, but as soon as he’s gone, turn to leave and head back to find Shin-Ah.

“Sorry,” I say, when I find him crouched behind a tree, watching the village enjoy the festival. “I got caught up. Here’s the food.”

I sit down beside him on the soft ground and lean my back against the gnarled tree. Holding the plate between us, I separate out our portions, giving him most of it. He seems to notice what I’m doing, though, and moves some of the food back over to my side.

I smile, touched. “You need it more than I do,” I say. “I’m not that hungry.” Just then, my stomach growls.

He gives me a look.

“Fine,” I say. For a few moments, the two of us eat (Ao occasionally rubbing against one of our hands for a bite). I notice that both of us are a little careful to not let our fingers touch. It’s hard, though, having to share the same plate, and more often than not, our fingers will brush. Each time, a shiver will run through me.

For the next hour or two, we wander around the edges of the party, running into the trees and merging with the shadows every time someone turns our way. We observe all the little contests and competitions. We eat more food. We talk some. Simply put, it’s fun. All the while, though, I seem to be more and more aware of his presence beside me. A whole day with him, a time when we’re not practicing words or swords . . . it’s unusual.

I want more. I crave it.

As we round the outskirts once again, I stumble into a ditch, and Shin-Ah grabs me, his warm fingers wrapping around my bare arm, pulling me upright before I can fall completely. I freeze, my heart speeding and my skin burning and something deep, deep inside of me . . .

My pulse slows.

_What . . . is this?_

No . . . I know what it is. For the last two months, I’ve been ignoring it. The small thread of tension that carved its way into our once-comfortable relationship. That made it . . . different. It was because of that one night, the night I’d asked him to dance. I’d been too forward, I think.

But no . . . was it even then? Maybe it was when he rescued me from the earthquake. When I first started spending time with him. When I made him his white wolf pelt and when he chose his name.

Or perhaps . . . it was the very first time I saw his eyes. That time, so many years ago, when he saved the whole village. Put his own life on the line, but was only punished for it. And all I could think was, _How beautiful. How beautiful those eyes are. I want to see them again. Please, let me see them again._

And I did.

Is that it?

I don’t know.

Maybe it is all these things. Maybe it is more. Maybe . . .

A horn sounds in the distance and I straighten, trying to recompose myself. “Oh, that’s for the sword fighting competition,” I say. “Do you want to go watch?” It’s a bad attempt to distract myself, but I’ll take anything right now.

He nods in agreement and we head to the area reserved for the competitions. The fighting stage is wooden, large and sturdy, with steps on either side. Luckily for us, two sides of it are surrounded by trees which provide ample shade against the afternoon heat of the day.

We take refuge behind the trees, but being so far away from the stage, it’s hard to get a good view.

“You should . . . go up farther,” Shin-Ah finally says. “I can see fine. I can stay here.”

I glance at him. “No, I can stay here, too.”

“No, I want you to be able to see it,” he insists. “You should see other people’s fighting styles, too.”

I nod, seeing his point. “All right,” I say.

And maybe, just maybe, I want to get a little distance to clear my head.

I look back at him once more before I leave the trees and go deeper within the crowd to try and find a spot that I can see from better. Shouldering my way through the hordes of people, who all seem to have come to watch the fights (undoubtedly one of the highlights of the festival), I manage to finally get near the front.

“Hello, everyone!” shouts the announcer, Bon-Hwa, a man in his late-twenties with a small stature but a booming, extravagant voice. “Welcome to today’s esteemed sword fighting competition. I won’t bore you with any of the rules because I know we all just want to see the fight!” There are a few scattered laughs. “Our first opponents are Kwan and Chul-Seok!”

The crowd cheers and jostles around me.

The two men mount the stage, heavy swords in hand, grinning at each other and raising their free arms to wave at people in the crowd. Kwan is known for his muscled body and powerful blows, but Chul-Seok has a steady endurance and strong will. I eye how they carry their swords, noticing their posture and stances, remembering everything Shin-Ah’s told me.

Bon-Hwa calls the start and the two men rush at each other with no hesitation, their feet thudding on the ground and shaking the stage. Their blades whip out before them and my breath catches. Neither of them are nearly as fast as Shin-Ah is. In fact, compared to his elegant blows, their styles seem clunky and slow.

Loud clangs ring through the air as they fight. The swords push and pull at each other, the steel glancing off at odd angles as each man attacks the other. Their swings are awkward, too focused on might rather than technique. I chew the inside of my cheek and lean forward more to get a better view.

Kwan charges forward at Chul-Seok, who is too slow, taking the brunt of it with his body and bringing his sword up only at the last moment. He grunts loudly, but then starts to actually push Kwan backwards with pure brute force. The crowd oohs and ahhs at Chul-Seok’s strength. They seem to be stuck at an impasse — each one straining, blades quivering, sweat pouring down their bodies — but only for a moment before Kwan swings his blade back, fast, and in the momentum, brings it crashing down onto Chul-Seok who is once again too slow. This time, however, he is unable to block it. He crashes down to the ground with a grunt.

The crowd erupts into cheers for Kwan.

“We have a winner, everybody!” Bon-Hwa shouts. “Kwan, everybody, Kwan!”

I clap politely, but even just a few months training with Shin-Ah taught me to notice the flaws in the fight. Both men relied way too much on their strength and had no real defense. In a real battle, they wouldn’t last a second.

“All right, who volunteers to fight Kwan next?” Bon-Hwa roars, clearly in his element. Standing next to the giant Kwan, he looks like a midget.

I glance around, wondering when Ki-Gun will step up, but several bouts later, Kwan remains undefeated, and Ki-Gun has yet to make an appearance.

“Can anyone defeat him?” Bon-Hwa challenges. His eyes are lit with passion and daring.

“I’ll try,” says a voice, and I immediately recognize its cockiness, its arrogance, and smooth confidence.

The crowd turns and I hear several girls my age start cheering, their screams high-pitched and squealing Ki-Gun’s name.

Ki-Gun is very popular and known to be good with the sword since he was a little boy, rumored to be a sort of prodigy in our village. Ever since he first tried teaching me, though, I haven’t seen him fight, so I suppose today I’ll get find out if he’s as good as people seem to think he is.

Ki-Gun steps onto the stage and draws out his sword. I can immediately tell that he’s more at ease with it than most of the men who’ve previously fought. His stance is easy and relaxed — almost careless — but if you look closely, you can tell that his fingering and placement on his sword’s hilt is just right and that his balance is even as well. I lean forward, interested. At that moment, he turns his head slightly and catches sight of me. He shoots a grin at me and I attempt to arrange my face into a scowl. He mouths, _Watch me,_ and turns his attention back to Kwan.

Bon-Hwa yells at them to begin and Kwan dashes forward immediately, like he’d done with all his previous matches. Ki-Gun steps aside, not even bothering to lift his sword, and Kwan stumbles, surprised. His momentum carrying him too far, he almost runs off the stage, but catches himself in time. With him distracted, Ki-Gun swipes the blunt end of his sword down at Kwan’s back, and Kwan cries out as it thuds against his skin, bruising it for sure. When he turns, a growl forming deep in his throat, Ki-Gun leaps back before sprinting forward at him, his sword raised above his head. Kwan moves to block it, but Ki-Gun is too quick for him, and at the last moment, changes the direction of his attack, and directs his blow to Kwan’s leg.

Kwan howls as a thin cut appears on his leg. He collapses and blood stains the stage, darkening the wood.

“We have a winner!” Bon-Hwa shouts and the crowd erupts around us, louder and more energized for Ki-Gun than they’d been for any of the other rounds.

I lean back, realizing I’d been tense with fascination. Ki-Gun is good: quick, calculating, and effective. That’s . . . surprising.

The fights continue. A few more less-experienced fighters come on, and Ki-Gun easily defeats them. Then some warriors who actually know what they’re doing come to challenge Ki-Gun, such as one of the village’s most seasoned soldiers, Seung.

By this time, I can tell Ki-Gun is getting tired. Sweat is pouring down his face and his movements are slowing, but even so, a sort of fervor surrounds him and each fight seems to energize him as much as it tires him, if that’s possible. Even though Seung puts up a good fight, he still loses to Ki-Gun’s blade in the end.

After Seung congratulates him (he was Ki-Gun’s master, after all) and leaves, Ki-Gun rests the pointed end of his blade against the stage and leans against it. His breathing is heavy, I notice. As if he can sense my gaze on him, he lifts his eyes to mine. In the dark pools of brown, I see ferocity and pride, the victory he feels, the invincibility. Ki-Gun smiles widely, pleased to have my attention, and I suddenly feel vulnerable, like he can see all the emotions written on my face as well.

I glance back to where I’d left Shin-Ah, and start. He’s left the shadowy safety of the trees and can almost be clearly seen now. With his horned mask, the white wolf pelt, and just the general air about him, it’s amazing that he hasn’t already been spotted. I wonder if he, too, has been captivated by the fights and wasn’t even aware that he’d moved forward.

Before I can decide if I should move back to him, which might cause more attention, or stay where I am, Ki-Gun says, his voice carrying over the crowd easily and confidently: “I’d like to challenge someone now.”

I whip my gaze back to him.

In the competition, as a way to change things up, a fighter is allowed to challenge someone once they’ve won at least one round. A challenge is usually done when there are no more volunteers. Of course, the person who is challenged is allowed to refuse, but it’s dishonorable, even more so than if they accept and lose.

It’s unusual for Ki-Gun to challenge someone. All the good fighters have already fought and he’d only want to fight someone worthy of his own talent, someone who would make him look good when he beat them. Who on earth . . .

My heart pounds as I realize who exactly he’s going to pick.

_“Seiryuu, I challenge you to a duel between swords!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLIFFHANGER! Don't you love 'em. I'll try and upload soon because of the awesome (er, awful, I mean - awesome for me, 'cause as an author, I love cliffhangers, awful, I suppose for you guys - don't worry, I understand, I'm a reader, too) cliffhanger. The next chapter is the super, super long , though - the longest in the whole story. A whole lot of development goes on and you get a nice little scene. *cough cough* 
> 
> ~ J. Dominique


	8. Pathways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present to you, the longest chapter of this whole story! At 5,170 words (approximately twenty printed paper pages), it's pretty lengthy. I'm posting this a little earlier because of last time's cliffhanger - hopefully this chapter will fulfill everything! The song for this chapter is "Road to Kouka Kingdom." Pretty cool song. Hope you guys enjoy the chapter! And again, thanks to all who've read so far!

_Chapter 8_

_Pathways_

* * *

The whole world seems to take in a breath.

Ki-Gun’s gaze is level — and to some, his expression may seem unreadable, almost blank. But I can see it: the superiority he feels, the pleasure he’s gotten from everyone’s shock.

The village turns as one, looking to where Ki-Gun is watching. For a moment, there is nothing at all but nature’s sounds. Wind blowing and weaving through the trees. The stream in the distance bubbling over the rocks. Birds chirping and singing. And then, someone in the crown gasps.

The silence breaks.

Shin-Ah stands at the edge of the trees, the sunlight and shadows dappling around him. His expression is just as unreadable as Ki-Gun’s, helped along by his mask. If he’s daunted by having the village’s eyes on him, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t cower or step back, but stands firmly.

“You always carry that sword, Seiryuu,” Ki-Gun calls out over the people’s murmurs. “Must mean you can use it, right? Well, come on up and show us what you can do!” The dare is clear in his voice, and anger burns within me. Anger at Ki-Gun, anger at the whole village, anger at myself.

Shin-Ah takes a step forward. The crowd shrinks back from him, some people even crying out, and he stops. I want to move forward, go to him, but my legs seem frozen, stuck to the ground.

“What are you waiting for?” Ki-Gun taunts, and Shin-Ah starts moving again.

My heart beats fast now.

Ki-Gun is good, but he’s not . . . not as good as Shin-Ah. He can’t be. He doesn’t know what he’s getting into . . . and Shin-Ah, what is he going to do? If he beats Ki-Gun, the village will be in an uproar. But if he loses on purpose . . .

As Shin-Ah moves through the crowd, they all veer away from him, while trying to look like they aren’t. I wrinkle my nose. My limbs are heavy, my arms weights at my side. When he gets close to me, he glances in my direction, unspoken words between us, but looks away. I want to call out to him, but my mouth seems to be sewn shut. All I can do is stare.

Shin-Ah climbs onto the stage. Now that he’s on a different level than them, everyone leans forward, eager to watch, pushing me farther to the front.

“Well, um, this is . . .” Bon-Hwa seems to be at a loss of words for once. “Ah . . . well, uh, swords at the ready!”

Ki-Gun pulls his sword’s tip from the stage with a kind of vigor that startles me. There’s a wild fire in his eyes. He swings it from side to side, then crouches, the sword aimed forward. From my vantage point, I can see Shin-Ah takes a deep breath as he draws out his sword. He, too, gets into his stance, but he keeps his sword at his side.

Ki-Gun lets out a laugh, then catches my eye and smiles at me, a wicked grin. Once more he mouths, _Watch me._ But he doesn’t know, does he? He’s not the one I’ll be watching.

_“Begin!”_

Ki-Gun makes the first move: leaping toward Shin-Ah, his hand outstretched — my breath catches, but Shin-Ah easily sidesteps, not even raising his sword. Ki-Gun whips around, mildly surprised; his sword is up at the ready, expecting an attack, but Shin-Ah makes no move for the offense. Ki-Gun’s eyes narrow and he darts forward to delivers several quick blows. Shin-Ah is able to dodge most of them, but the last he is forced to lift his sword to block. There’s a loud clang as the two metals hit. The blades slide and squeal against each other, in a lock, and Ki-Gun snarls and leans forward as he tries to get Shin-Ah to relinquish his hold by sheer force. Shin-Ah grits his teeth, and then, in a flash almost faster than I can see, spins away, his sword slipping under and around Ki-Gun’s, and somehow, ends up behind Ki-Gun.

Ki-Gun blinks and staggers, the object he’d been inflicting pressure upon having disappeared, and the whole crowd tries to work their mind around what just happened. They jostle around me, wondering to themselves over the strange event. The only reason I was able to comprehend it was because I’ve become used to Shin-Ah’s lightning speed style. If I hadn’t been training with him the last two months, I think I would’ve been as confused as everyone else.

Shin-Ah holds his sword out, hands wrapped firmly around the handle. Ki-Gun, incensed now, whirls around, the fire in his eyes burning with rage. With a bellow, he charges forward, completely going on offense. His blows rain down hard on Shin-Ah, precise and focused. But if Ki-Gun has a strong attack, Shin-Ah has an even stronger defense. He possesses an impenetrable wall, an invisible shield that an experienced and a talented warrior would be hard-pressed to crack. For someone like Ki-Gun, who is good but not great, it’s nearly hopeless.

Ki-Gun begins to tire and the two move back and forth across the stage, exchanging blows here and there, but more so dancing around each other as they strategize on how to defeat the other. Or rather, Ki-Gun strategizes. At this point, I think Shin-Ah is just humoring him. He knows he can beat Ki-Gun anytime he wants.

As for Ki-Gun, he’s getting frustrated . . . he’s getting unhinged. Every time he throws his sword out, thinking he’s solved it, thinking he’s found a flaw, Shin-Ah’s blade is there to stop it. Both of them are sweating now, but Ki-Gun has been fighting for longer than Shin-Ah, which puts him at a disadvantage. So now . . . now that he can’t seem to make any headway . . . he’s become reckless.

And that’s his mistake. He lunges forward, blade aimed for Shin-Ah’s heart, but Shin-Ah dodges to the side, flicks his sword up, and sends Ki-Gun’s flying to the other end of the stage. The crowd shifts uneasily beside me. Ki-Gun scrambles toward it and Shin-Ah lets him, unwilling to fight an unarmed opponent.

With his sword in hand again, Ki-Gun glares at Shin-Ah, unable to believe he’s been made into such a fool. He’s completely unbalanced and I can tell it’s dangerous for his technique. This needs to end, soon. Shin-Ah can see that, too, and decides to go on the offensive finally. Swiftly, he moves forward, his blade slicing through the air in a smooth arc.

I’ve seen Shin-Ah practice. But I haven’t seen him fight.

Not like this.

And it’s amazing.

He’s fast, so incredibly fast my eyes can barely catch the movement. To everyone else, it must look like a blur. The blade in his hand seems to move of its own accord, twisting and turning through the air in complicated patterns, complex but beautiful movements. Paired with his mask and the white wolf pelt I’d given him, the image of him fighting is both . . . awe-inspiring and, if I were on the other end of it, frightening.

Ki-Gun can barely keep up and it’s all he can do to keep his sword in his hands and keep himself from harm.

Finally, though, he stumbles, loses his grip on his sword, and collapses to the ground with a thud. He gasps, his eyes going wide. Shin-Ah’s blade flies through the air and — stops, inches from Ki-Gun’s neck.

Both of them are breathing hard, the fight lasting minutes longer than the others.

A few people murmur next to me, and I realize how this looks — the Seiryuu pointing his blade at Ki-Gun’s neck . . .

A chocked sound escapes me and I move forward, my body finally free of whatever was restraining it.

Ki-Gun, who is flat on his back and still in a kind of daze, turns his head at the sound to face me. His eyes are full of shock and humiliation, the fire I’d seen earlier dead.

Shin-Ah, noticing him distracted, also turns . . . sees me . . . breathes out . . . and sheaths his sword.

But Ki-Gun, unwilling to let the Seiryuu have the last move, lets out a growl and jumps up, kicking Shin-Ah back. He slides over to his sword and snatches it from the ground before pointing it toward Shin-Ah, who hasn’t gotten his own out again. Ki-Gun hollers, the sound tearing from deep within his throat, and raises his sword once more.

I cry out.

Just then, a woman’s scream rips through the air.

“Help! Help! Oh, someone, please help!”

The noise is coming off to the right, near the food tables. Heads turn, the crowd pushes and shoves at each other to see what the commotion is, and I’m swept along with them against my will. Somewhere along the way, I lose sight of Shin-Ah.

I make my way to the front of the crowd to see a woman crouched over her son, a boy of about nine or ten. He’s limp and unconscious in her arms, and there’s a bloody bandage around his leg.

“He . . . he was playing in the mountains yesterday,” she sobs, hysterical. “He fell and got cut on some rocks. I . . . I thought it was fine. It wasn’t deep or anything.”

The crowd parts to make way for the village’s healer, a mysterious older woman who’s been here for as long as I can remember, yet no one knows her name. She kneels down by the boy and presses a hand against his forehead, which is slick with sweat.

“Infection,” she says. “It seems . . .” She reaches for his hand and examines it. The people around me gasp and cry out. His palm is covered in several ugly red bumps.

“What is this?” the boy’s mother cries.

“That’s what I thought.” The healer sighs. “Were there any skinny green plants around the area you were out at yesterday? They’d be about this tall, this wide around.” She demonstrates the size.

“I — I . . . _maybe_. . . I don’t know!”

“It seems that when your son fell, some of this particular plant’s poison got into his bloodstream.”

“W-what does that mean?”

“Not only is the cut infected,” the healer explains, “but it’s also poisoned.”

The woman wails. “You can do something, though, can’t you?”

“I’ll definitely try,” the healer says, “but since you didn’t bring him to me yesterday, the poison’s already had plentiful time to spread. And I haven’t been able to find the plant that works the best and fastest on this type of poison in years. I don’t think it grows around here anymore.”

The woman begins to weep in earnest. “My poor baby. My poor Haneul.” She clutches her son’s hand, ignorant to the large, misshapen bumps covering his skin.

I move forward, not sure what is compelling me, and place a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” I say. “We’ll send search parties out right away. We’ll find the plant.”

“A-Ae-Sun?” The woman stares up at me, eyes wide in awe. She’s probably surprised at me, since it’s not in my reputation to be kind and helpful.

“Can you please describe the plant to us?” I ask the healer.

She nods, but she doesn’t look very optimistic that we’ll find it. “It’s a tall, skinny plant,” she says. “Barely looks like it can stand up. Greenish-yellow in color, and the leaves are thin, about this big.” She holds her fingers out to indicate the shape. “If you find something that looks similar, but aren’t sure, one deciding factor is that the one you’re looking for has a very sharp smell, like a spice.”

I nod. “Thank you. Did everyone hear that?” I ask the crowd around me, who are already nodding and splitting off into groups, discussing where to go to look. “Please, whoever can help. We need to get Haneul help as soon as possible. Please help me search for this plant.”

“His life depends on it,” the healer adds.

That sends his mother into another bout of crying.

* * *

An hour later, with half the village scouring the mountains, I’m beginning to think the healer is right. Of course, it hasn’t been that long and the mountains are huge — that’s what my positive side tells me. But my negative side looks at Haneul, sees his sweating face, and his jerking body, and fears for the worst.

The day of festivities gone dark, we’d moved him back to the mountains and into the healer’s sick room where she could properly care for him. Now he lies on a bed, a damp cloth over his forehead, as we wait for someone to return with the antidote.

I’d wanted to search myself, sure I could cross more distance than most people, but Father had pulled me aside, a shine in his eyes, and told me to stay with Haneul. I think he believes that because I stood up to take responsibility for the search parties, I now have to stay with the sick boy.

I want to be outside, though.

I want to know where Shin-Ah went.

The healing room is slightly bigger than the average bedroom, lit with more torches than a normal room as well. On one side, there are carved-out shelves which hold jars of herbs and plants, towels and blankets, and all sorts of other healing-type things. In the middle of the room are the beds reserved for the sick where Haneul currently resides, his mother in the chair beside him. Her crying has finally reduced to sniffling for which I am glad, because I was about to go mad. She glances over at me every now and then, like she thinks I can magically produce the cure out of my pockets.

No, I want to tell her, I am completely useless right now.

Just as I am about to give up sitting with an incompetent mother and her sick son — not to mention the silent healer — there’s a shout from outside the healing room and scuffling noises.

I stand up, grateful for something to occupy me, and say to the healer and the mother, “I’ll go check that out.”

When I exit the room and enter the dark corridor outside, what I see is not what I expected at all: several of the villagers, looking tired and dirty, but nonetheless angry, Ki-Gun, my father, and Shin-Ah.

The most unexpected thing, though, is the fact that in Shin-Ah’s hands are several long stalks covered in thin leaves that emit a sharp, tangy scent.

“That’s it!” I cry before I can stop myself.

As one, they all turn to look at me, having just realized I was there.

“Shi— er, Seiryuu, you found the plant!”

Shin-Ah nods and reaches forward to hand me the plant. Before I can take it from him, though, Ki-Gun snatches it from his hands. He grips the plant hard, crumpling it carelessly.

“Wait!” he says. “We have no idea what he did to it. What if it’s actually poison?”

I scoff at Ki-Gun and fold my arms across my chest. “It’s not poison. It’s exactly as the healer described.”

“But he could’ve done something to it after he found it,” Ki-Gun insisted. “We have no idea what the extent of his powers are. He could’ve cursed it or something.”

“Oh, come on,” I say. “Shi— the Seiryuu wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t try to kill Haneul.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” one of the villagers asks, glaring at Shin-Ah. “He tried to kill Ki-Gun just a little while ago!”

“That’s right!” Ki-Gun says. “Were you not watching, Ae-Sun? He was about to slice right through my throat!”

“He was not!” I protest. “He sheathed his sword! You were the one who attacked him after that.”

Ki-Gun scowls. “I don’t trust him.”

“We have no reason not to,” I say. “Since when has he done anything bad for this village? He’s been protecting it his whole life!”

“Oh, yeah, like killing a whole army of soldiers and making us move halfway across the country to the mountains? You call that protection?”

Everyone goes still.

No one mentions that anymore. At least, we try not to, because it’s something that most of us still can’t accept. That the little Seiryuu really did save our lives.

Ki-Gun knows it, too. But he’s angry, frustrated, volatile.

I am, too, but I know better than to feed it, so I focus on relaxing the tension in my body. A few seconds later, once I feel reasonably calm, I hold out my hand, looking Ki-Gun in the eye, and daring him to argue with me again. After a few moments, he relinquishes the wrinkled plants. Then, huffing, he turns and leaves, the villages following him and muttering to themselves.

Father clasps his hands together, having not said a word during the whole exchange. “Ae-Sun, you take that antidote to Haneul. I’ll escort the Seiryuu back.”

I frown, but I know how important this plant is and I have no other choice. I nod and hurry back into the healing room.

“What was all that about?” the healer asks. Her eyes widen when she sees the plant in my hands. “Oh, thank goodness!”

“Do everything you can,” I gasp, my breath short. “Please.”

“Of course,” she says. “I will.”I glance down at Haneul, at his small form, wrecked by the poison and infection running through his body. “Please get well,” I whisper to him.

* * *

I help the healer the rest of the day and by the end of the night, Haneul is showing significant signs of progress. His breathing has evened out, the swelling of his wound gone down, and even the bumps on his hand are beginning to disappear.

“Oh, thank goodness. Thank goodness!” his mother cries. “Thank you so much!” She pulls the healer into a hug, then me.

“You’re welcome,” I say, smiling at her. “But . . . it’s the Seiryuu who found the plant for you.” I hadn’t had time to fill them in with the story since we’d been busy trying to heal her son, but now I tell them how Shin-Ah brought the plant here.

“He . . . did that for my son?” The woman’s voice tremors and I fear she’s going to start crying again. “Thank you,” she whispers, but not to me this time.

I go to visit Shin-Ah after that. When I reach his cave, he’s in the same position I found him in this morning: leaning beside the wall, Ao in his lap.

“Shin-Ah! You did it! You found it. Because of you, Haneul’s going to be okay!” I nearly run to his side in my enthusiasm. He looks up at me and slides over, offering me a seat, even though there’s plenty of room to sit. I smile and settle down beside him.

Ao jumps from his lap to mine and I rub her head.

“I mean, you found it with your eyes, right?” I gush on. “You must’ve seen it from far off. We probably never had any hope of finding it, did we?” I lower my voice, becoming more serious. “We really are lucky to have you. Thank you.”

He turns his head from me slightly and I lean back, sensing that something is off. Did my father say something to him when he “escorted him back”? I want to ask him what’s wrong, but something tells me he won’t answer.

“I told Haneul’s mother what you did,” I say instead. “She was grateful, I think. Surprised, but she said ‘thank you.’ To you.”

Ao nestles into my lap, a warm ball of fluff.

“I’m glad,” Shin-Ah finally says. Is it just me or is his voice softer than usual? “Ao . . . he protected this village. I’m glad I can, too.”

We sit in silence for a few more minutes, and I realize something: this is awkward. Earlier today, when I was trying to untangle the tumultuous feelings inside of me, it wasn’t awkward between us. No, that time today was more conscious, more alert to whatever was between us, but not awkward.

Now, though. . . .

What has changed?

I stand up. “Well,” I say. “I’m really tired. I think I’m going to turn in now. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

I move to go, but he grabs my arm. I turn back, surprise filling me.

His jaw is tight and he opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it again, as if he can’t find the right words. I study him, trying to figure out what’s wrong, but glean nothing. After a few moments, he relaxes his grip on my arm, letting me go, and simply says,

“Thank you, Ae-Sun.”

* * *

Father is waiting in my room when I get back, a looming shadow that makes me jump when he moves.

“Father,” I say. “I didn’t realize you were still awake.”

“I heard that Haneul is healing,” he says. “That’s good.”

“Yes. Yes, it is.” I glance around the darkness, my body tense.

“Where have you been?”

“Out for a walk. I needed some fresh air.”

We both know I’m lying, but he doesn’t press it.

He stands up from where he was sitting on my bed and approaches me. There’s no light in my room, so it’s almost scary. Father has never been tall or big, but there’s an aura about him, a sense of intimidation, that’s even more frightening than size.

“Ae-Sun,” he says, voice quiet, “why did you defend the Seiryuu earlier?”

I take a few moments to consider my answer, knowing that I’m treading dangerous water. “I don’t believe that the Seiryuu is a bad person,” I say. “I truly believe that he is protecting us — the village.”

Father tilts his head. “That may be so, but proclaiming your thoughts so openly is not wise. You know that, Ae-Sun, so why do you continually push me?”

“I . . .” My voice cracks, falters, and I take a step back.

“You are an embarrassment to my name.” His voice whips out and I flinch as he steps forward, closing the space between us. “I have given you everything; you are one of the most privileged girls in this village. You have the opportunity to marry Ki-Gun, a fine man. And yet you insist on being obstinate, defying and disobeying my wishes all the time, and making a show out of everything. I was proud of today when you organized search parties for the antidote, but when you defended the Seiryuu? That is unforgivable.”

I know I should just say sorry, say it won’t happen again. But anger is heating up inside me, burning through my veins, and I can’t ignore it anymore.

“Father,” I say, “I know this isn’t what you want, and I guess I’m sorry for that. Sorry that I couldn’t be your perfect lady who does everything you wish. I’m sorry I’m not that girl. What I’m not sorry about, though, is who I actually am. I won’t apologize for what I say, what I feel, or what I want. That’s just me . . . I can’t stop it and I don’t want to. So, please, Father, let me live my own life the way I want to.”

My voice has become louder, stronger, filled with emotion. I’ve known about the ideals I’ve held for a long time, but this is the first time I’ve expressed them to Father. The first time I’ve ever really tried standing up to him. Usually, we simply skate around each other, evading the other through clever words and lies. Now, though, for the first time, I have been clear with him.

But even though my voice had been strong, my words confident, I’ve been looking down the whole time, afraid of what Father’s expression holds.

Finally, though, I look up —

His hand slaps across my cheek. The blow stings, but I barely notice it. My physical surroundings seem to have gone dull, numb, just a low buzzing in my ear.

My heart pounds, loud, loud, loud within my chest.

Father . . . hit me?

I blink a few times. Mother . . . did he ever . . . ?

“You are too much like your mother,” he hisses. “For that, I will never forgive you or the Seiryuu!”

The feeling is starting to come back into my body. My eyes . . . they’re starting to tingle. My cheek . . . it’s burning . . . and my heart . . . tight, so tight. I . . . I have to run. Leave.

_Escape. . . ._

I turn and start running. I barely know what I’m doing, where I’m going. My breath is coming in short gasps, my heart working twice as fast than usual. My vision is blurry from . . . tears? Crying. I’m crying.

I reach it before I know it, my hand stretching out without my muscles fully aware of it and slamming the stone wall. It groans and moves and I slide myself in. When it closes again, I lean against the wall in the darkness.

Breathe in. Breathe out. I attempt to relax myself. I’d carried myself to Shin-Ah. Of course. But if he sees me like this . . . I don’t want him to see me like this.

Especially after whatever had happened just moments before.

Before I can calm my breathing entirely, though, I hear something from the end of the tunnel.

“Ae-Sun?” Shin-Ah’s voice echoes along the stone. “W-what happened?”

The world around me hums and spins, and before I know it, I run into his arms. I can feel the surprise etched into his body, but I bury my face into his chest, trying to ignoring the burning feelings of anger, of shame and guilt, of grief, of desire . . . so many different and conflicting emotions.

He bends his knees slightly, and I’m about to ask him what he’s doing, when he lifts me up from the ground. I gasp slightly. His arms encircle around me, his hands strong and warm against my skin. Ao, who’d been on his shoulder, travels down to my stomach and squeaks at me.

“It’s okay, Ae-Sun,” Shin-Ah murmurs. “You can stay with me tonight . . .”

Stay with . . . him?

I wasn’t sure what I came here for. Was that I wanted? Maybe.

That’s what I’ve wanted all along, though — just to stay with him.

As he carries me through the tunnel, my breathing evens out, my mind calms, my body relaxes into his arms. In just a few moments, I already feel safe, protected. . . .

Over the course of our friendship (is that what you’d call it? — maybe the term should be “ambiguous relationship”), I’ve provided him with a few more blankets so he could make himself a decent bed. Once he sets me down, he rearranges them into . . .

We’re supposed to sleep beside each other?

Oh, okay. Sure.

Once he’s finished, I climb toward the makeshift bed and strive to make myself as comfortable as possible on one side. After a moment, he lies down beside me.

I can feel the awkwardness of earlier in this moment, woven in tight, but somehow, it doesn’t seem as important anymore. Now, even though it’s just a little while later, the tension seems almost welcome, a sign of something promising.

We’re both on our backs, staring up at the ceiling of the cave, even though all I can see is black. I wonder what he sees.

I wonder if his other senses are just as alive as his sight is.

The feeling of his body next to mine, so warm and close. The scent of him, almost overpowering, making me want . . . more of it. He shifts next to me, and I hear the jingle of bells. I smile a little to myself.

_Shin-Ah. Person of moonlight._

I sigh to myself. This is good. I’ve calmed down and gotten my thoughts off of Father. Although I know I will have to face him again . . . right now, I just want to be with Shin-Ah.

So I do something daring.

I turn on my side so I can face him. Almost as if he’d had the same thought, he’d turned on his side as well.

We’re suddenly staring at each other. Well, as much as two people can stare at each other when one is wearing a mask.

He reaches out and brushes a finger against my cheek. The one that Father hit. Now that my eyes are adjusted, I see the worry creasing his mouth. Of course he would see the imprint of Father’s hand. I hope it’s not too visible in the morning.

“It’s okay,” I say quickly. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

His face softens. “Are . . . are you cold?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, but sits up and detaches the wolf fur from his mask and drapes it over me. Of course, it’s not that big so most of my legs are uncovered, but it’s still so warm.

I smile. “Thank you.”

Once he’s lain back down, I reach my hand out this time. I trace the only thing I can really see: his mouth. His lips are soft and I wonder, briefly, what they would feel like against mine.

His breath catches, his mouth opening slightly.

“Mm, sorry,” I say, taking my hand back. “I . . .” _I have completely gone crazy tonight._ I decide to change the subject before I do something else that’s even worse. “I just . . . miss my mother.”

“Your . . . mother?”

“Yeah. My father . . . I don’t understand him at all. Well, I don’t know. Maybe I do in a way. He never listens to me, though. And tonight . . .” I trail off, not wanting to mention tonight’s events.

Shin-Ah shifts closer. “I miss Ao,” he says. “He was like my father. I . . . never knew my real mother or father.”

I knew this of the Seiryuu, but it still pains me to actually hear it.

“So,” I say, “we both know what it’s like to lose a parent.” I bring the wolf fur closer to my neck before letting it drop.

Then I reach out once more. This time, I take his hand and I bring it close to me. And I just hold it there, near my chest. When I feel the warmth of his skin, the now-familiar touch of his fingers and his palm . . . with his hand so close to my heart, I wonder if he can feel the beat speeding up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just re-read through this chapter (I've only really been skimming through the others), and I was kind of surprised by my writing. If any of you are writers, you might understand. Some stories you happen upon again, and you're like, "I wrote this, it's awful!" and then some stories, you're like, "I . . . wrote this? It's not too bad . . . ." Currently, I fall into the latter category. It's not like I'm praising myself or anything (I try not to do that, haha), but it just surprised me a bit. 
> 
> Anyway, what did you guys think? That last moment . . . right? Gahh. And now we're really in the depths of the story and the conflict and romance and all! Next chapter is pretty short, a little breather, and then, after that chapter, we get started in the ending. This story is fourteen chapters, so only six left! :o The last chapter is kind of like an epilogue, much like the first was kind of like a prologue. 
> 
> Once again, thank you all for reading! I hope you continue to enjoy it . . . 
> 
> ~ J. Dominique


	9. Acknowledgment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it that time for a new chapter already? This one is short, light-hearted, a little breather mostly. The song is "King Il," though I can't really remember how I got the chapter title from that. Enjoy!

_Chapter 9_

_Acknowledgment_

* * *

After they’d heard the Seiryuu had found the plant, the majority of the villagers went back to celebrating the festival, even though it was already evening and most of their energy had been spent scouring the mountains. But this was no ordinary festival — and no one wanted the days of preparations to go to waste. So while I helped the healer care for Haneul and his mother worried beside us, everyone else played and danced throughout the night. Apparently, the food, though gone cold, was still superb, and there was even an archery competition I missed.

If there were any murmurings of the Seiryuu — regarding his fight with Ki-Gun and his finding the cure — I didn’t hear about them. After all, when it comes to the cursed blue dragon, we like to keep quiet.

Speaking out about the Seiryuu can have dire consequences.

I know that better than anyone.

* * *

My eyes flutter open to darkness. In my sleep-worn mind, I’m aware of the hard ground beneath me, barely cushioned by the blankets. I can make out the sound of soft, deep breathing.

A smile stretches over my lips.

I don’t know what time it is — always hard to tell in the perpetually dark caves — but it is probably morning, judging by my internal clock and the fact that I’ve woken. As my eyes adjust, I can make out the still-sleeping forms of Ao, who lies between us, a furry lump, and Shin-Ah who’s lying on his back. His hand is still stretched out toward me, fingers curled gently, though sometime in our slumber, we’d become separated.

Ao twitches in her sleep and stretches, a small _mrrrp_ noise emitting from her throat. Almost at the same time, Shin-Ah shifts, rolling over on his side to face me. I stiffen, wondering if he’s awake — although his mask is slightly skewed, it still hides the better part of his face from me.

However, his breathing remains even and he makes no further movement, so I eventually relax.

I breathe out and let myself enjoy the peaceful moment, my eyes closing once more.

Then, I begin to contemplate on what to do. Should I leave now, without disturbing him? Or should I wake him up, to let him know I’m going? Either way, I know I should go back to my room, before Father finds me missing. I dread returning, but the longer I put it off, the greater Father’s wrath will be.

It’s best to get it over with sooner than later.

Although I wish I could stay with Shin-Ah. Who knew he was a late sleeper?

He shivers in his sleep and I realize I still have the wolf pelt over me, soft and warm from my body heat. Carefully and slowly, I sit up, slide it from my body, and drape it over his. I pull the fur right up to his chin, letting my fingers brush his skin despite myself.

He sighs, the shivering coming to a halt, and I freeze.

When he still doesn’t wake, I dare even more and reach down for his hand, pulling it up to me. I remember falling asleep holding it last night. And now, in the morning, that moment seems like a dream. But grasping his hand now, knowing it was reality . . .

He stirs, breath catching, and his fingers tighten around mine. When he turns his head toward me, I know I’ve woken him.

“Sorry,” I whisper.

His mouth opens slightly, almost like he is surprised to see me. Like he, too, had thought it was all a dream. “Ae-Sun . . .”

“I’m right here.” To prove it, I squeeze his hand, hard.

A small smile forms. “I’m glad.”

There’s the grinding of the door beyond and we both start, our hands falling apart. We dart up and Ao finally awakens, squeaking at the noise.

“Who’s that?”

He shakes his, at a loss.

My heart pounds. The only people who come to visit the Seiryuu are the elders. What if it’s Father? If he finds me here . . . Or even if it’s another one of the elders, it would still be disastrous.

I glance around Shin-Ah’s cave, panic filling me, but it’s perfectly round, with no hiding spots. I’m completely trapped. Shin-Ah stares at me, seeing my predicament, and unable to come up with a solution as well.

Light from their torch bounces against the walls, a faint glow in the distance. Their footsteps echo through the corridor, nearer, nearer. . . . But as I listen more closely, I realize they don’t sound like my father’s. Whereas Father’s are heavy footfalls filled with purpose, these are uneven: one light, the other a hard lurching sound.

The owner of the footsteps turns the corner, bringing with him the fiery torch.

It’s Haneul.

His eyes widen at the sight of me. “Ae-Sun!” he proclaims. “I . . . I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

I want to cry from relief. While someone seeing us together is far from optimal, Haneul might be the best person I could’ve gone with.

“Haneul.” I step forward. “You shouldn’t be out so soon.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” he says. “The healer said I was fine to go!”

I scrutinize him: in the firelight, his face is still pale, but he looks otherwise healthy, despite being so sick yesterday. The bumps on his hand are almost all gone, and the swelling on his leg is now minimal. I realize the sound of his mismatched footsteps to be from the limp in his leg, the cut still healing.

“Well, if she let you go . . . ,” I say reluctantly. “Anyway, what you doing here?”

Haneul blinks, as if he’d completely forgotten. At that moment, Ao decides to claw up his leg and to his shoulder. He lets out a cry — of surprise and then delight.

“A squirrel!” he exclaims. His gaze darts around, and he places the torch on a holder in the wall, something that was only put in recently for my benefit. Then he pulls Ao off his shoulder and holds her up in the air. “Where did you get this, Ae-Sun?”

“She’s not mine,” I say, amused.

Haneul freezes, remembering exactly where he is and turns toward Shin-Ah, wide-eyed. He still holds Ao before him, almost like a peace offering. _(If you decide to eat me, please take the squirrel first.)_

“Oh, no!” he cries. “I’m not wearing my mask! I can’t believe I forgot it!” He waves Ao in the air with desperation.

Shin-Ah stares. I rush forward and place my hand on Haneul’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” I say. “I’m not wearing a mask, see? And I’m fine. He won’t hurt you.”

Haneul’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush. His eyes flit back and forth from my face. “Well, right. I guess I should’ve known that. He . . . he was the one who found the plant that saved me, right?”

“He’s right there,” I say. “That’s why you came, right? To thank him?”

The boy nods. He looks nervous, but I’m grateful to see he at least doesn’t look fearful.

He steps forward, cradling Ao in his arms, and says, “Seiryuu, I — I wanted to thank you. For saving my life. Mother thanks you, too. She doesn’t know I’m here actually . . . she probably wouldn’t approve. But I wanted to thank you directly!” He blurts the last part out and dips into a bow.

In all the times that Shin-Ah’s helped the village, I wonder if he’s ever been given thanks like this before.

Clearly not, because all he can do is stare at Haneul.

The poor boy is a fit of nerves around, staring around and fidgeting. I’m about to shove Shin-Ah into action, when he finally opens his mouth. “Y-you’re welcome . . . I’m glad you are feeling better now.”

Haneul lets out a squeak similar to the ones Ao makes. “T-thank you, Seiryuu!”

And then, because he can’t handle Shin-Ah’s unflinching gaze anymore, he turns to me. “And thank you, too, Ae-Sun! You helped as well. Mother said you stayed with me the whole time. I’m very grateful!” He bows low.

I grin. “You’re very welcome.”

A blush starts to creep over his cheeks and he hugs Ao tightly across his chest. “And . . . um, Ae-Sun, you know . . . you have really pretty hair, you know? I mean, you do. Golden like the sun. You know.”

My grin widens and I almost laugh. “Thank you, Haneul. Now, you better get back home soon or your mother will start worrying. Relax for a while and finish healing for me, okay?”

The red completely takes over his cheeks and he ducks his head. “Okay!” he says, and he scurries away, but not before he remembers he’s still holding Ao. He turns around, places her on the ground before us, bows once again, and hurries off (though he forgets his torch).

I chuckle softly once he’s gone.

When I turn to face Shin-Ah, though, about to announce my own leave, I notice he’s . . . frowning? He’s hunched forward, his brow furrowed at the ground, a very un-Shin-Ah-like expression.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, startled.

“I . . . he . . . that boy . . .”

“Haneul,” I prompt.

“Right. Haneul . . .” He searches for the right word. “He . . . desires you?”

My face goes about the same shade Haneul’s did a few moments ago. “H-he — I mean, sure. He probably likes me a bit, but it’s nothing serious. He’s just a kid — it’ll pass over soon! I mean —” I shut my mouth, rambling now. Then, “He complimented me is all.”

I debate on whether or not to say more, but decide to leave it at that. Perhaps, with Shin-Ah, simpler is better.

“Oh.” Shin-Ah nods. “So to express your desire, you compliment someone?”

I wish he would stop using the word “desire.”

“That’s one of the ways,” I say. “One can never go wrong with compliments.”

He nods once again, but his mind is far off now.

I narrow my eyes at him, wondering what he is thinking, but decide it can wait for later. “Well,” I say. “I really should go now. I’ll see you later, okay?”

I shift my weight, my cheeks still warm, and turn, but Shin-Ah’s hand suddenly darts out, grabbing my arm. I gasp as he pulls me back to face him, the bells on his mask jingling merrily.

“Ae-Sun,” he says and his voice is low. What is this? My heart speeds up, the blood in my veins hot, my skin tingling where he’s touching me. “Ae-Sun. I . . .”

I get the feeling he’s staring deep into my eyes, his gaze intense behind his mask. His grip on me is firm and strong. He must have something really important to say . . . like what, though? He doesn’t really seem like the secretive type to me.

Suddenly, his face goes pink and his hold around my arms loosen. He turns his face to the side, and rubs his hair. “I . . . you’re a really good teacher.”

For a moment, I feel numb. Confused. Still wondering what in the world just happened. (My heart is racing, I’m shivering all over, and I can’t cool down.)

Then — realization hits me, clear and sharp, and I understand what he was doing. Laughter bubbles up inside me and threatens to boil over. But for Shin-Ah’s sake, I keep it in. I don’t want to embarrass him even further.

“Thank you,” I say, with a smile (that is beginning to turn into an all-out grin).

He nods in response, his cheeks still reddened with heat.

As I turn to leave, my heart pounds and leaps within my chest, happiness exploding within me.

Well. Subtlety has never been Shin-Ah’s strong point.

* * *

I am almost skipping and humming on my way back to my room when I remember what I’ll meet there. _Who_ I’ll meet there.

Father.

My pace slows, my throat going dry. How will he treat me after our fight? Several scenarios run through my head, but I push them out. I don’t need to worry about it. I just need to face it, get it over with.

When I reach the part of the caves sectioned off for my family, I take in a deep breath. There is a chance Father might not be in his room. But I know it’s hopeless once I walk past his room, see the door ajar, and him sitting on top his bed, waiting.

“Ae-Sun,” he calls, and I slow myself to a halt.

“Father.” I tilt my head.

He examines me carefully and I wonder if the imprint of his hand is still visible on my cheek. I haven’t been able to check a mirror yet.

Finally, he says, “Please go to your room.”

I don’t even argue, but do as he says. Some part of me wonders what else he has planned for me, but for now, I will take this. Inside my room, it looks no different than it did last night. But now, the memories of Father towering over me, the sound of his slap reverberating through the air — this room no longer feels safe.

I collapse onto my bed, suddenly, inexplicably feeling tired, despite having woken up not too long ago. Perhaps it’s not a physical exhaustion, but a mental and emotional one. Something so draining, it wears down on your body as well.

It doesn’t help that I’ve been staying up later and later, it seems, to visit Shin-Ah. Maybe I know my time with him is limited, so I want to spend as much of it as I can with him. So I sacrifice my sleep, something that seems trivial in comparison to him.

Whatever it is, I am tired.

I am happy, from what Shin-Ah said.

I am worried, about what Father will do.

And I am tired, from everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this marks the end of the middle. And only five chapters left till the end. . . . 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed it and as always, thanks for reading! 
> 
> ~ J. Dominique


	10. Elegy of Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't reveal any spoilers, but this starts the ending of the story. (And I'm pretty sure one of my guest reviews told me to stop saying stuff like that, so sorry! D:) Anyway, this chapter is pretty great, so enjoy. Oh, and the song for this one is "Jeaha, Elegy of Moonlight"! Great song.

_Chapter 10_

_Elegy of Moonlight_

* * *

That night, I don’t go to visit Shin-Ah. I get up in the afternoon, do some work around the village, but exhaustion claims me once again at night, and I fall into my bed earlier than usual. Now, I’ve woken up, realizing I’ve slept too long. That I’ve probably missed my opportunity to see him.

Guilt floods through me. What must he be thinking right now? That I abandoned him? I will definitely go to him tomorrow, maybe even in the daytime, to apologize.

Some part of me is relieved, though. I can get a full night of rest. Also, perhaps I just need a night to reflect on everything that has happened in the last few months. And decide what to do with the rest of my life.

Father whispers in my mind, _Choose Ki-Gun. Quit being so stubborn. You know you cannot win._ I squeeze my eyes shut. There must be some way I can go, some path I can take, where I don’t end up marrying Ki-Gun. Right?

But as I try to reason out all the puzzles, the different options and variables, my mind keeps drifting. Drifting to a certain blue-haired, masked boy, who carries a sword on his back and a squirrel on his shoulder.

I give up, finally, and let me mind wander to Shin-Ah. I try to picture his face without the mask, but fail. I can’t seem to get his eyes right, the red markings on his cheeks . . . it’s all wrong . . . I can’t remember right . . . I haven’t seen his full face since the earthquake.

I punch my pillow, flattening out the fluff, and roll over in my bed, frustrated. I’ve never had a problem conjuring up the image of his eyes in my head before, so why now? I don’t know.

Instead, I think of his hand, warm. I think of how he sees everything. How he sees me, how he knows me. I think of how he cares for me, how he told me he wanted to make me happy, how he tried complimenting me. I think of how he saved me during the earthquake . . . and when he saved the whole village when he was just a child.

He is so kind, so sweet, so naïve and innocent. I remember him, back in that hole of a cave that he calls home, starving and shivering, unable to read and write, voice raw and cracking from disuse. A person craving of such warmth that he found his greatest comfort in a squirrel.

I let out a choked laugh.

What twisted views my people have. What cruel monsters we all are.

The door to my room opens and I jerk up. Father?

Then —

There’s a tinkle of bells and a soft voice says, “Ae-Sun?”

I relax. “Shin-Ah?” and then, “What are you doing here?” A slight panic rises up inside of me. “If my father sees you —”

“He is asleep,” Shin-Ah says. “Everyone is asleep . . . I already checked.”

“Wh . . . what are you doing here?” I ask again. I scramble up in the dark, my eyes quickly adjusting.

“Come,” he says, holding out a hand toward me. “I . . . there is something I want to show you.”

Ao crawls down the length of his arm and squeaks on top of his hand.

I look up at him and find myself saying, “Okay.”

I’d been so tired earlier I hadn’t even bothered to put on my nightclothes, so all I have to do is find my shoes and fasten them on. I also see my mask, but I decide to leave it. I don’t need it. It’s just Shin-Ah, after all . . . I know him.

Once I’m finished, I grasp his hand and his fingers intertwine comfortably with mine. Then the two of us, Ao on my shoulder now, walk out of my room. As we pass Father’s room, I glance at the door to make sure it’s closed. Shin-Ah leads me down the drafty passageway, the air filtering through cool and crisp, and I know we’re going outside. I wonder what he is going to show me, but I don’t ask.

It is unlike him to do something like this. Come to my room. Ask me for something.

Is it because I had not come to him?

When we reach the exit to the outside, I notice it’s one of those that leads directly to the woods. For a few moments, we weave through the spindly trees, the sounds of the night enveloping us, before coming to a clearing. I gasp when I look up, see the sky that’s no longer concealed by a blanket of leaves. A million stars are sprinkled across the velvety darkness, twinkling and shining as brightly as they can, a competition to outshine the other.

Shin-Ah says, “Careful . . . the rocks are slippery.”

I turn and realize he’s nodding to a small, rocky hill that leads upward. I nod and he bounds up the rocks, with me following closely behind.

Once we’re at the top . . . the view is even more amazing. The sky seems to stretch on forever and ever. The stars are dotted across in brilliant patterns, inconceivable designs. They glitter against the dark blue sky like pieces of silver and gold and diamonds.

“This is amazing,” I breathe out. I stretch out my arms and gulp in the fresh, night air.

Shin-Ah grabs one of my outstretched arms and turns it to the right. “Look,” he says. My gaze follows where he is pointing my arm and . . .

I let out a gasp as a star shoots across the sky, leaving a misty trail of white behind. And then another. And more and more. Flashes of brilliant white light racing each other, falling again and again.

“This is amazing,” I say again. I close my eyes and spread my arms out through the sky, my fingertips tracing through the air. “Don’t you wish that sometimes you could just fly? Fly off into the night, amongst the clouds, and that endless blue?”

I turn to face him and I see that he is smiling. I smile, too, somewhat apologetically. “I’m sorry for not coming to see you tonight. I was really tired, I overslept . . . I’m glad you came to get me, though. How did you know about this?”

He taps the eyehole of his mask.

I settle myself down on the ground to watch the star shower more comfortably; he sits beside me, and our knees touch. “Of course. Your powers are amazing, aren’t they?”

He stills.

I hesitate, then I say, “I know you can see really far with them . . . but do you mind . . . do you mind telling me more? Why do you say they’re a curse?”

He pauses for a moment, gazing into the sky, before speaking.

“Ao . . . ,” he starts. “Ao told me they were. My powers . . . they don’t turn people to stone . . . but they can paralyze you or . . . kill you. And then . . . the power turns on you yourself.”

“That’s why you collapsed that day,” I said. “You’d paralyzed yourself.”

He nods. His hands are tightened into fists.

I glance down. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized.”

I look back up at the glimmering sky. The raining of the stars has slowed to only a few a minute now.

“Are you . . . are you scared?” he asks. He shifts beside me.

“Of course not,” I say. “I’ve never been scared of you. I’ve never thought that. . . . To me, you’ve never been a curse.” I move closer to him, until our shoulders are almost touching. “In fact, I would say that you’ve been more of a blessing. A gift. I’m so glad that we had that earthquake that one day. That you were there to save me. Because if there hadn’t been one, I wouldn’t have gotten to know you.”

He doesn’t answer, still staring up at the sky. I hadn’t really expected him to, but I don’t mind.

I move my body until I’m facing him, my unmasked face inches from his hidden one. “Can I see you?” I ask. “Please.”

Even though I can’t see his eyes, I get the sense that he’s staring deeply into mine. Then he nods, very slightly.

I reach forward. I notice my hands trembling, almost imperceptibly, but I’m sure he sees, too. My fingers are stiff, numb, as I fumble with the strings of his mask and it takes me longer than it should. Finally, though, I undo the final knot and I lower it to the ground, setting it aside on the stone ground.

I look back up. And I wonder how I could ever have forgotten his face.

I would like to describe them. I would like to write down the images in a book, forever inked, a copy for anyone to read and feel the same wonder I am feeling. But words cannot simply convey the beauty of the Seiryuu’s eyes. Of Shin-Ah’s eyes. The scratchings of a quill cannot do them justice.

So I won’t even try. Because unless you see them yourself, unless you somehow have the incredible luck of seeing his eyes in person, you can never understand how they look. How I feel looking at them.

A smile spreads across my lips.

His golden eyes search mine, and I see a bit of nervousness, a sense of wonder, and something very soft and tender that I cannot name.

I touch the red markings on his cheeks and he closes his eyes — not to hide them. But out of instinct, out of pleasure.

“Do you know what a kiss is?” I whisper before I can stop myself.

His eyes fly open again and I get the idea that he most definitely knows what a kiss is.

A wild recklessness is drowning me. Something became clear this morning. When he tried complimenting me, even if it perhaps wasn’t what he really meant to say, it made something clear to me: that the feelings I have for the Seiryuu are reciprocated.

Somehow, after all these years, a fascination has turned into something real. A liking, an appreciation. Then a small longing. And now, this scorching desire and craving coursing through my blood. And somehow — _somehow_ — he’s fallen in love with me as well.

So I dare. I take a step.

“Ae-Sun,” Shin-Ah murmurs. His eyes are alight, alive, and I drink them in, memorizing everything about them.

I trace the outline of his mouth and then I lean forward, my hands combing through his hair, and press my lips against his forehead. Then I kiss the tip of his nose. His breathing quickens and his eyes flutter shut again, so I kiss them, too, my lips brushing against the eyelids. He moans softly.

Then he shifts suddenly and moves closer, his hands wrapping around me. The heat of his body sets me on fire, and the touch of his fingers on my skin sends shivers up my back. He pulls me into him and lowers his mouth to mine.

Yes, obviously he knows what a kiss is.

He is gentle, tentative, and he is beautiful. His body is so close to mine now; it’s burning me, hot like crimson flames. I move closer. I want more. I crave more. My arms find purchase around his neck and I hug him all the more tighter.

There’s a crash behind us. Shin-Ah and I jerk apart.

“Ae-Sun?”

My heart thuds, loud, loud, as I turn to see Ki-Gun staring at me, his eyes wide, his face pale.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I . . . I am so . . . sorry. Honestly, I'm just grinning like an idiot right now because that's got to be one of the best kiss scenes I've written (and I've written a lot - helpless romantic over here!), so you know, I hated ending it like that, too. But you gotta do what you gotta do. And it always ended that way. Who am I, as the author, to change the story's course? 
> 
> Anyway, on another note, about Shin-Ah's powers (to be more specific, his paralyzing powers): he clarifies them for the first time in this chapter to Ae-Sun. It wasn't until I was finished drafting this story that I realized he never uses them (not really a spoiler, I guess). All the times he uses them - or goes to use them - in the manga are very high stakes moments, and honestly, this story, while it has a lot of conflict, doesn't exactly have high stakes. There is a difference, and this story is, at its core, a romance, not a fantasy action (with some romance) like the manga. So yes, Shin-Ah will never use that aspect of his power in this story. That would take this story in a whole different direction - if it were a novel, I probably would've considered it, but as it is, this is a short story, so yeah. I suppose the first chapter when he used it as a kid doesn't really count since that was canon, either. 
> 
> So! Once again, THANK YOU to all my readers! You guys are brilliant and amazing and awesome. If you have any questions or comments or see any typos or mistakes I made (or anything that falls into the review category, haha), I love hearing from you. 
> 
> And I'm rambling now. Sorry. I tend to do that. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I sure enjoyed it. Originally, the kiss was a lot shorter. Then I went back and expanded it and added a lot more detail that made me shiver and grin like a freaking idiot. (Shin-Ah, why are you so cute.) Thanks for reading! (If you skipped over this whole author's note, I don't blame you!).
> 
> ~ J. Dominique


	11. Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story does not have an easily defined climax (since it's not action and high stakes and all), but you could maybe say that this chapter is the most climax-y you're gonna get. The song for this chapter is "Decision of YONA." Enjoy!

_Chapter 11_

_Decision_

* * *

“You — you monster!” Ki-Gun shouts at Shin-Ah. Rage fills his body, twisting his face and turning it purple. “How dare you touch her with your filthy, cursed hands!”

Ki-Gun launches himself at Shin-Ah and starts throwing punches, but he’s off-balanced by his anger. The smooth, calculating fighter from the sword fighting competition is nowhere to be found. In his place is someone far more shaken, wild, and unstable. Humiliated and thirsting for vengeance. Shin-Ah easily avoids the wide blows, but this only makes Ki-Gun angrier.

“You’re a _monster_.” Ki-Gun spits on the ground and Shin-Ah flinches, turning his face away. “I will kill you with my own two hands if I have to. I will —” He doesn’t stop to come up with other awful things to do, but throws himself at Shin-Ah again, screaming and shouting. Shin-Ah scrambles away, trying to hide his face.

The whole village will wake up soon at this rate.

“Ki-Gun, stop!” I shout, and I move between the two. Ki-Gun halts when he sees me. He hunches his shoulders, his eyes still large and filled with uncontrollable fire. But he’s still, for now.

I crouch down, retrieve Shin-Ah’s mask and hand it back to him. He fastens it on, his well-practiced fingers tying the knots quickly. Guilt floods me. I was the one who asked him to take it off . . .

I turn to face Ki-Gun. “Ki-Gun,” I say, my voice firm. “If you kill the Seiryuu, you know what will happen. Another one will be born. And it will be on _your_ head for passing down the curse sooner than it was supposed to be.” I hate referencing it was a curse, but I have to stop Ki-Gun from trying to hurt Shin-Ah.

For a few moments, Ki-Gun simply stares at me. And then he says, his voice calmer and more even than his demeanor, “How are you not stone?”

I go still.

“You were staring right at him,” Ki-Gun continues. “I saw you two . . . you were talking and then you . . . you _kissed_.” Disgust laces through his voice and he shakes his head, the thought of someone kissing the Seiryuu intolerable to him. “How are you not stone?”

“I . . .”

My brain races, trying to search for some explanation, some answer that will satisfy Ki-Gun, but I am not quick enough.

Ki-Gun’s face reddens. “Don’t tell me. Don’t tell me it’s true.”

“What’s true?” I say cautiously. Spikes race up and down my arms, my legs, holding me in place, freezing my muscles. My body aches with the need to move, _do something_ , but it remains motionless.

Ki-Gun points at Shin-Ah, not even looking at him. “Don’t tell me he’s the reason you keep rejecting me. Don’t tell me _you_ love _him_. Don’t tell me that you enjoyed kissing that _monster_.”

“He’s not a monster!” I say. The spikes running through my body have turned into sharp needles, steaming hot as if they’ve been dipped into boiling oil, burning through my blood, drenched with anger. “He’s a human being, just like you and me. He has feelings, too.”

Ki-Gun throws his head back and lets out a strangled laugh. “So it’s true, then. You’ve fallen in love with the Seiryuu! You’ve fallen in love with the monster!”

“Stop it!” I scream at him. I step forward.

He slaps me.

I stumble back, stunned. My hand reaches up to cradle my cheek, the same one Father had hit. It burns now, but not with pain.

“Ki-Gun,” I say, my voice and body numb with shock.

He laughs and starts to say something else, but then Shin-Ah has flung himself at Ki-Gun, his sword out and pointed at Ki-Gun’s chest. The silver blade glints in the moonlight.

“Don’t you . . . touch her,” he says, his voice low.

I gasp. “No . . .”

“What are you going to do, Seiryuu?” Ki-Gun says, his voice hoarse, mocking. “Are you going to kill me now? Go ahead. I challenge you. Do it.”

The sword trembles in Shin-Ah’s hands. Aimed straight for Ki-Gun’s heart, if he had the will, he could kill him instantly. And even though I cannot see his face anymore, by the way the air has thickened with tension, the way Shin-Ah’s body is rigid, shivering — but this time not from cold. . . .

He is angry.

“Or how about you use your power?” Ki-Gun taunts. “Take off your mask. Let me see your eyes. Turn me to stone. Seiryuu . . . why don’t you curse me?”

No . . . Shin-Ah can’t . . . he’ll kill Ki-Gun and he’ll paralyze himself . . .

The word escapes me before I can help it: _“Shin-Ah!”_

Shin-Ah stiffens. For a moment, the blade in his hand quivers and I’m afraid he’s going to drop it. Then, he lowers his sword and looks at me.

“It’s okay,” I say, desperate. “It didn’t really hurt. I’m okay. Please, you can’t hurt him. If you do, they’ll only treat you worse . . .”

For a moment, he only stares at me, then he nods and moves away from Ki-Gun. His movements are slow, though, measured, the anger still coursing through him.

Ki-Gun laughs again, a manic chuckle that sends shivers down my back. “Shin-Ah?” he snarls. “You named that creature? I guess that really proves it, then. You love him, don’t you?”

I don’t answer.

Ki-Gun stands up, swaying, his eyes wide and angry. “Don’t you, Ae-Sun?” he shouts.

“Yes,” I say.

Both Ki-Gun and Shin-Ah freeze where they stand.

Then a voice behind me says, “Well, I suppose that clears things up, then.”

My heart sinks even lower as I turn around. “Father.”

* * *

The next few moments happen in a daze. Father dispatches Ki-Gun to go find his father and the third elder, Soo-Min, and then he dismisses Shin-Ah back to his cave with a bored wave of his hand.

Shin-Ah hesitates and glances at me. He’s calmed down, though he knows the situation is even worse now with my father present. I give him a look that tells him to not argue. He nods, but as he walks back to the caves, I notice him looking back at me.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Ae-Sun?” Father asks me once he’s out of sight. Although, with Shin-Ah, he could still be spying on us for all I know.

I feel like a child being scolded for stealing food she shouldn’t have.

This is much worse, though.

I return Father’s question with a question of my own. “Did you expect this, Father?”

He looks delighted that I’d understood his earlier threat. “Perhaps not quite this dramatic,” he said, “but I did see something along the lines of this happening. My dear Ae-Sun, did you really think I wouldn’t notice you sneaking out every night for four months? And going to see the Seiryuu, no less?”

I see now why he let my meetings with Shin-Ah carry on for so long: because he knew it would culminate into this. A disaster. He knew we wouldn’t be able to hide it for forever, that eventually everyone would find out, and that everything would be ruined.

So rather than tattle on me, he let me think I was safe for the time being — no, he planted the thinly veiled threat so I’d know he knew, so I’d agonize over it. For a moment, I flash back to a memory I’d tried to bury: _his watchful eyes, his burning gaze, as I cried at the fireplace, Mother’s book smoldering in the ashes_ — he wanted to make sure I hadn’t forgotten.

I could never really leave him. This place. These ties — chains — around me. The brief respite Shin-Ah had given me was a distraction from the truth, at best. Father knew that, but he could see that I was beginning to forget. So he devised a plan to make sure that when everything fell apart, I’d never dare defy him again . . .

I swallow, and muster up a bravado that isn’t really there. “I didn’t think you were that concerned about me other than my marriage plans, actually,” I say.

“This does concern your marriage, though, doesn’t it?” he muses. He leans forward and twirls a finger through my hair. “You look a lot like your mother, you know. You have her golden hair, her sky-blue eyes.”

“You never even loved her, did you?” I hiss.

His voice sharpens. “Do not say that, child. You know nothing.”

“I know enough,” I say. “I know enough to know that I never — ever — want to be forced into a marriage with someone I don’t love. I may have been young when Mother died, but I still remember her. I remember how she looked so sad every day. It’s because she missed out, isn’t it? She missed out on love. Because of you.”

“No, not because of me, darling,” Father says, “but because of your precious Seiryuu.”

My heart pounds.

“And doesn’t that hold true for you, too?” he continues. “You are also bound to this town because of him? Isn’t he the cage surrounding you? Isn’t he the one restricting you and making the rules, not me?”

“No . . . ,” I say. “He’s not what you think. . . .”

Father shakes his head. “He has addled your brains, dear. Come now. The elders must be waiting for us. We will decide what to do with you now.”

He grasps my shoulder, hard and unyielding, and marches me into the caves. Before we enter the darkness, before I’m swallowed up by the prison once again, I glance back at the sky. The stars are no longer falling. And they don’t seem as bright now, either.

* * *

“Unbelievable,” says Hyun-Su, the first elder and also Ki-Gun’s father, as he walks into the room reserved for the elders’ meetings and takes a seat at the head of the table. “My son comes to me in the middle of the night and tells me that Ae-Sun, your daughter, was found meeting with the _Seiryuu_?”

“It appears so,” my father says calmly. He rubs the back of his neck and settles into his appointed seat to the right of Hyun-Su.

“Unbelievable!”

“What is the meaning of this, Man-Shik?” Soo-Min asks, her voice sharp. “Is the village in danger?”

Father sends me a look that clearly says _Stay quiet and let me handle this_. I nod and keep my head down, in my own seat at the end of the table. The meeting room is small, round, with the table and chairs taking up most of the space. There’s a map on the far wall, several torches already burning, and a few other essentials here and there. I’ve never been here before, even being the child of an elder. The fact that I’m seeing the place for the first time reminds me of the gravity of this situation. Of what I’ve gotten myself into.

“As you know,” Father begins, laying his hands out placidly, “my daughter has never been happy with her position in life. She’s a greedy sort of child who, though I’ve given her everything, wants more.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to stay quiet.

“When proposed with the idea to marry Ki-Gun, she refused outright.”

Ki-Gun himself, although looking more composed now, glowers in the corner of the room. His crosses his arms over his chest and lets out an audible noise of displeasure.

“As you both know,” Father continues, “I’ve expressed concerns of Ae-Sun’s obsession with the Seiryuu before.”

He’s talked to the elders about that?

“I thought she’d grown out of it, but clearly I was wrong. Apparently feeling angered by her upcoming marriage to Ki-Gun, she became reckless and started meeting in secret with the Seiryuu.”

“Unbelievable,” Hyun-Su pronounces once again.

“I had no solid proof of this, only a suspicion, but tonight Ki-Gun saw her sneaking off with the Seiryuu and he followed them.”

“Son, what did you see?” Hyun-Su asks, turning his attention to the sulking Ki-Gun.

I dread Ki-Gun’s answer. He was following us the whole time? How did Shin-Ah not notice him? Perhaps I haven’t been giving Ki-Gun enough credit . . . No. I know the answer to that. Shin-Ah has heightened eyesight, not hearing. And besides, if he was anywhere near as distracted as I was, he wouldn’t have seen a herd of horses racing up the mountainside until they were right upon us.

So what had Ki-Gun seen? And what had he heard?

“I was going to Ae-Sun’s room to talk to her,” Ki-Gun says. “I thought maybe I could try to convince her to marry me again when I saw her leaving with the Seiryuu. Of course, I was really startled, but I decided to follow them. They climbed up high and they watched a star shower for a while.”

“That’s it?” Soo-Min says.

“No,” he says. He glances at me briefly, his eyes burning with contempt. “Then she took off his mask and he kissed her.”

There are two loud gasps. My father, who I’m not quite sure knew this or not, is completely silent and still.

“You saw his eyes?” Soo-Min asks me, her voice full of fear.

“How have you not been turned to stone?” Hyun-Su demands. “And why on earth would you let a monster like that touch you, let alone kiss you?”

Rage boils up inside me. I rise, the chair falling to the ground behind me.

“For the last time,” I say, “he’s not a monster! How can you not see that? He’s just a human, like the rest of us! I know each of you visit him. Can’t you see it? Don’t you see him in there, starving and cold and lonely? Don’t you see that that’s what _we_ did to him? How can you live with yourselves?”

“You dare address us in such a way?” Hyun-Su stands up, his face reddening. “Man-Shik, I don’t mean to insult your parenting skills, but clearly this daughter of yours has no idea what respect is.”

“Yes,” Soo-Min agrees. “Ae-Sun is arrogant and stubborn. I know you love her very much, Man-Shik, but she is too willful for this village. I think she would do it more harm than good. And now that she has broken our most sacred rule, she should be punished accordingly.”

The blood drains from my face. “Are you . . . going to kill me?”

“I do think that’s the only way to deal with it,” Hyun-Su says, nodding. “We can’t banish her. She might tell others of the Seiryuu’s existence. And if we just let her live here, it wouldn’t really be a punishment. She’s devious. I’m sure she could somehow contact the Seiryuu again and the two of them could start plotting.”

I start to shake. “Father, you wouldn’t . . .” I glance over at him and my hands clench at my sides. He’s staring at the wall, his face contemplative.

That’s when Ki-Gun steps in. “I have a solution,” he says.

Hyun-Su raises his eyebrows at his son and nods at him to continue.

“Give her to me.”

Hyun-Su’s eyebrows go higher. “Explain yourself, son.”

“Ae-Sun did all of this because she didn’t want to marry me, right? Well, what better punishment than the very one she was escaping from?”

“If we do that,” Hyun-Su says slowly, considering, “she’d still be living within the village. She could still contact the Seiryuu.”

“Not if you do it now,” Ki-Gun says. “If she marries me now, that’s a bond that can’t be broken. Believe me, she’ll never talk to the Seiryuu again.”

Whatever hope that was left inside of me shrivels up and dies.

Perhaps death would be preferable to this.

Ki-Gun’s right. What better punishment than the one I’d been running from the whole time? The one I was desperately trying to claw my way out from? The one that would be even worse now because I had experienced something true, something beautiful and real, only to have it taken away from me? Ripped and shredded into pieces right before my eyes.

It would be like torture.

How cruel of them.

_These monsters._

“I think Ki-Gun presents a good solution to our problem,” Father says. “Not only would I not have to dirty my hands with my daughter’s death, but death is far too easy a punishment for her.” He glances at me, his expression emotionless. “This is much more fitting.”

I close my eyes and try to hollow out my heart. I try to not feel anything anymore. Because now, with my fate practically upon me, it would be better this way.

I am going to marry Ki-Gun.

I will never see or talk to Shin-Ah again.

Because Ki-Gun’s right. If I marry him, if I had that kind of relationship with him, then I would never want to face Shin-Ah. Because I’d be bound to Ki-Gun and because whatever we once had would never be possible again. So yes, Ki-Gun is right. If I married him, I would never, ever try to see Shin-Ah. I would die first.

Would I prefer death?

Perhaps.

But if I was given a choice, I don’t know what I would choose.

(Really, though, who would choose death?)

I want to live. I want to survive. I want to see the world.

I lift my knees up and curls my arms around them, burying my head into my legs. I don’t care if they see me now, a weak girl, crying because she has lost everything. I don’t care. Let them see how they’ve ruined me. Let them see.

“You have to marry me now,” Ki-Gun says to me, smug, and I realize he must’ve gotten the approval of the other elders. While I broke apart, he must’ve gotten exactly what he wanted. I feel him near me and lift a strand of my golden hair. “We’ll say our vows in just a moment. If you just hadn’t loved that monster . . .”

I snap.

Jerking upright, my hand curled into a fist, I bring it straight into his cheek. Ki-Gun cries out and tumbles to the ground.

“Don’t you dare,” I snarl at him. “He is a good person. He is a thousand times better than all of you. You are the monsters. You are the evil ones. The ones who can condemn such a kind, sweet person to a life of solitude and abandonment. You disgust me!” I’m nearly screaming now. “I’d rather die! I’d rather die than spend one more day living with you awful people!”

“Ae-Sun,” my father says, his voice low and full of warning.

I turn my burning gaze toward him. “I can barely stand to look at you.”

Ki-Gun rises up and grabs my arm, pulling me toward him. “You’ll pay for that,” he says. His breath is hot and foul against my cheek. He shifts closer and I shudder. “I will make you pay every day for the rest of the life. You wanna know how? This is how: you’re going to —”

I never hear what horrible things he’s going to do to me, because just then he flies back into the air before hitting the wall and falling down to the ground with a thump. I stare at his collapsed form in shock before I turn around to see —

His sword is extended, his mask firmly in place, the white wolf pelt draped behind him. His mouth is set in a firm, straight line, and if I could see his whole face, I wonder what emotions would be flashing through his eyes.

He’s here.

_“Shin-Ah,”_ I breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm guessing that it's not really a surprise that he would save her? It's not a terrible cliffhanger this time (I think this is the last one of the story, so you can rest easy now). This chapter went through a lot of different development phases in how I was going to write it - I had lots of different ideas for the ending planned out (not that I can say them, because, you know, SPOILERS), and this chapter was kind of the turning point for how the ending would resolve itself. But this was the ending result, and I think it's fairly good. Hopefully it doesn't contradict itself in any ways . . .
> 
> Thanks for reading this, everyone! 
> 
> ~ J. Dominique


	12. Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! New chapter for you guys. This one's fairly low-key. The song is "Yun and Ik-Su, Farewell." Such a beautiful and sad song.

_Chapter 12_

_Farewell_

* * *

“S-Seiryuu?” Soo-Min whispers in shock. Her face whitens, her lips going pale as she presses them together. “W-what are you doing here?”

“You will not hurt her,” Shin-Ah says. His voice is strong, so strong now.

A great, warm feeling blossoms inside of me. Pride, gratitude, joy. I want to run toward him, hug him, never let go.

Shin-Ah glances toward me. “Are you . . . ?”

“I’m fine,” I say, breathless. My body is buzzing, alight with feverish happiness. “I’m fine.” _Now that you’re here._

He nods. And then, never taking his eyes off the three elders and Ki-Gun, he lifts one hand from his sword and motions to me. I hurry to his side, stumbling in my haste, and he wraps his free arm around me. He squeezes me close; I revel in the warmth, the familiarity, the rightness of it.

“Unbelievable,” Hyun-Su says. His mouth gapes open with both shock and fury.

“Perhaps the Seiryuu has another power as well?” Father wonders. He seems to be the most level-headed of all, his hands lying calmly across the table before him. “The power of manipulation and the muddling of brains . . . does he also possess this ability?”

I glare at Father and say, “I love Shin-Ah. It is no magic or curse. It’s my own free choice. You can’t change it. I _refuse_ to let you. Good-bye, Father.”

I almost smile then. I almost bare my teeth at him, at my own Father, who thought he could make us submit with his manipulation and lies. If it was me, if it was my will and my soul alone, he would’ve broken me. I would’ve been too weak against his hatred and his fear.

But I am not alone. I have Shin-Ah. I love Shin-Ah.

And while Father knew that, he didn’t count on Shin-Ah caring for me as well. To him, the Seiryuu is simply a beast, incapable of human feelings. He probably believes that Shin-Ah’s been toying with me this whole time. He doesn’t understand — he may never understand.

So I don’t smile. Because I can’t hate him, even with all his misconceptions and his faults. Instead, a heavy sorrow upon me, I simply stare deep into his eyes, and I hope that someday, he finds it in himself to change his views.

And then, their gazes heavy and accusing on me, the two of us turn and leave, Shin-Ah’s arm a comforting weight around me.

* * *

We walk in silence for a few moments. Ao nuzzles against my cheek, her soft fur warming and soothing me.

“I need to . . . go to my room,” I say softly.

Shin-Ah dips his head in acknowledgment, and we take a turn in the tunnels. Our footsteps are light, echoing quietly, on the cold stone. It’s still early, early in the morning, and most everyone is asleep.

Briefly, I wonder what the rest of the villagers will think when they wake up. The elders and Ki-Gun will have no problem telling them of my crimes, my sins. What will they think of the distant, great huntress Ae-Sun? The girl who slipped into the Seiryuu’s gaze and fell, fell all too hard . . .

Will anyone feel anything besides disgust and betrayal? I was never close with anyone in the village. It occurs to me that maybe I should regret this, but now, I think that maybe it’s a good thing. Because it makes it easier to do this.

When we reach my room, I separate myself from Shin-Ah — even though my heart thuds at the thought — and move to grab my pack and fill it with a few necessities. Clothes, some spare food I have lying around. I snatch up my mother’s mask, too, and after some hesitation, the new bow Ki-Gun gave me after I lost my original in the earthquake. I’ve barely used it and the wood is rough and unfamiliar. Ki-Gun is hardly an artistic type and so the bow is a bit crooked, but it’ll be all right. The bow will be a painful reminder, but it’s better to have this weapon than none at all.

Then, glancing around and making sure I haven’t forgotten anything, I nod at Shin-Ah, and we both exit my room. However, when we pass by my father’s, Shin-Ah pauses, his hand brushing against the wall. Father’s door is ajar, showing the edge of his bed and window, most likely because he left in a hurry when he went to go and catch the two of us together.

“Shin-Ah?” I ask carefully.

Without a word, he pushes into the room, and darts to the corner where the end of Father’s bed is. Crouching down, he reaches forward and I hear a few small noises of wood scraping and sliding, but my view is obscured by his body.

A moment later, he returns to my side with a thin notebook in his hand.

“What’s this?” I ask. My voice trembles despite myself.

“A secret . . . compartment,” he says. “Your father has been hiding this in it. It’s for you.”

I don’t ask how he knew how the compartment was there, but stare at the small book. “For me?” I heft my own bag over my shoulder so I can take the notebook and open it to the first page. I stagger back, what’s on the paper sending my heart leaping. The handwriting, the slopes and curves of the ink . . . it’s my mother’s.

A distinct style I would never forget.

I slam the book shut and stuff it in my bag.

When he gives me a questioning look, I say, “I’ll read it later.”

Right now, my mind is too chaotic to make sense of this. Shin-Ah nods.

For a long while, we walk in silence again. And then, once we are outside, when I can take in the fresh air again and I’m no longer confined by the hard, looming walls and the impenetrable darkness . . . that’s when I feel like I can finally take a breath again. My knees collapse from under me, my reservoirs of strength failing me. I don’t fall, though, because he is there.

But he won’t always be, will he?

_I know. I know you, Shin-Ah._

“Thank you,” I whisper to him, gripping his shirt. “I’m so sorry. They’re going to hate you even more now. They’re going to think you can somehow muddle their brains and make them go crazy.” I laugh weakly.

He says nothing.

“I’m so sorry,” I say again.

The sky is lightening at the edges now. Was it really only a few hours ago that Shin-Ah and I were stargazing, watching the shimmering sky shower down all it had to give?

It doesn’t seem real.

I hear a squeak beside me and I look down to see Ao perched upon my knee. I smile at her and pet her head. “Sweet Ao,” I say. “You always know how to cheer someone up, don’t you?”

I can feel Shin-Ah’s eyes on me. He is watching me carefully, so carefully. His arms are still around me, holding me. Does he think that I might break? Perhaps. I don’t really mind him watching me, though. It comforts me to know that he’s looking out for me.

Ao rubs her head against my fingers and lets out a small noise of contentment.

“I tried,” I tell Shin-Ah. My knees quiver; my hands shake and I grasp the cloth of his shirt tighter. “I tried to tell them who you really were. They wouldn’t listen. I know, they’re idiots. They just . . . the fear and hatred goes too deep. They’re too entrenched in their superstitions to see the truth. All they see is what they’ve been taught for years and years past. It’s stupid, isn’t it?”

I am rambling now.

“Ae-Sun,” he says and his voice is gentle. “You are tired.” He slowly untangles my fingers from his shirt and holds my hand between us.

“Yes!” I say and I laugh to myself. “I’m so tired, Shin-Ah. Please, just let me . . .”

I separate our hands, then I lean into him and rest my head onto his chest, my arms circling around his body. His heartbeat speeds up, slows, evens out. I smile. So I can get a reaction out of him.

“Ae-Sun,” he murmurs, and he runs a tentative hand through my hair. “We can’t . . . stay here. It’s too . . . open.”

“That’s fine.” My eyelids are growing heavy. “That’s fine. . . .”

He sighs, but not in an irritated way. For a moment, his arms tighten around me, and his chin grazes the top of my head.

I feel him picking me up, as effortlessly as the first time when he’d saved me during the earthquake. Then he starts walking, a smooth rocking that lulls me further into sleep. I don’t know where he carries me, but he doesn’t bring me back into the mountains, back into the cold, stale air. For that, I am grateful. The thought of ever stepping back into a cave again makes me shudder.

_You know that, too, don’t you, Shin-Ah? I know you, you know me . . ._

* * *

I don’t know how long I sleep. Minutes, hours, days, or years. It doesn’t really matter. But the whole time, somehow, I am aware that he is next to me.

And I feel safe.

* * *

When I wake up, it is dark out, and he is asleep next to me. We are somewhere in the woods — the sound of insects humming and wind snaking through the trees infuses the air — and once my eyes have adjusted, I can see the shadows of the mountains looming in the distance. The white wolf pelt I’d given him lies over me, warm, but not as warm as his body beside me.

_Shin-Ah . . . you walked so far with me?_

I sit up and lean over him. He’s lying on his side, turned away from me, his mask slightly askew, showing the contours of his face. I lift it, careful not to wake him, and set it aside. For a moment, I study him: the slopes and curves of his cheeks, his brow, his lips . . . then I bend down and lightly kiss his forehead.

He stirs and his eyelids flutter open. When he sees me, his eyes widen.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He shakes his head. And then he seems to realize his mask is gone. He jerks upright, looking around wildly.

“Shin-Ah,” I say, my voice gentle. “You’re not going to hurt me with your powers. I’ve seen your eyes many times now. I’m okay, see?” I spread my arms wide, indicating how un-paralyzed I am.

He turns his gaze to me and relaxes. “Oh,” he says. He still seems a little anxious, but he doesn’t make further movement to put his mask on.

It bothers me a bit, that he’s reliant on his mask. But I understand it, too. He’s lived his whole life behind that piece of carved wood, people telling him that if he takes it off he’ll kill everyone. I can’t expect him to suddenly start feeling comfortable showing his face to everyone.

And if what I’d heard was right, the mask used to belong to the previous Seiryuu.

It shouldn’t bother me, so I decide it doesn’t.

Besides, he’s been willing to show me his face before. That counts as something, right? Doesn’t that mean I’m . . . special to him?

I want to ask him . . . I want to know . . .

I’d said it outright: Yes. Yes, I love the Seiryuu.

_I love you, Shin-Ah._

_But what about you? Do you love me?_

He saved me from the earthquake. He danced with me. He kissed me. He saved me again from Ki-Gun and the elders. And now, he has walked all day and brought me to a safe location.

Does that mean he loves me?

He sits up and turns away from me, still self-conscious without his mask. He points in the direction opposite the mountains. “There is a village,” he says. “Not far from here. The one I told you about . . . do you remember it? This path follows a river. If you follow it, you should be safe.”

That wasn’t exactly what I was expecting — no, it wasn’t what I was _hoping_ for. “Thank you,” I say.

He stands up and moves over to one of the trees. Crouching down, he lifts something long and thin from the ground and brings it over and hands it to me. There’s a soft, unsure look on his face and it takes me a moment to remember the object in his hands.

“My . . . bow?” I say, taking the item. Not just any bow, either — my original. The one I thought I’d lost over the cliff during the earthquake. There are a few more scratches here and there, but I can tell Shin-Ah’s tried to repair them. “Where did you get this?”

“I found it,” he says by way of explanation. “When you were sleeping.”

My hands rove over the item. A few new nicks interrupt the familiarity I’d had with it, but I’ll get used to it. The bow still feels so much more comfortable in my hands than the one Ki-Gun gave me. Plus, this bow has many more positive memories. It was the one I’d had with me when I first met Shin-Ah . . . it’s the one he went out of his way to find for me. Because he saw my hesitation in taking the one Ki-Gun gave me. Because he is kind and beautiful and sweet. And I wish I could do more for him . . .

“You really do have a gift,” I say.

He starts and I notice his eyes go to his mask.

I swallow and look toward the place Shin-Ah had pointed out to me, the path that will lead me to the village. It’s still dark, but it’s starting to get light again. I’d slept for nearly a whole day, it seems. Wasted my time with him, just because I was tired.

I close my eyes and breathe in deeply. Before I can lose my courage, I open my mouth, eyes still closed because even though I desperately want to see his face, see his reaction, some part of me can’t bear to either, and say, “Shin-Ah, do you love me?”

“Yes.” The answer comes without hesitation. Just like the time when I’d asked him if he would do me a favor right before I’d asked him to dance with me.

A smile curves my lips and I open my eyes. He’s staring at me with such earnestness, such beautiful sincerity, I can almost feel my heart breaking.

_You know it, too, don’t you, Shin-Ah?_

I’m leaving and I’m never coming back — and you’re staying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If that's not exactly clear, the next chapter will help. So yeah. Not a lot happened this chapter. Not a lot will happen in terms of action next chapter, either, but in development, we'll get several . . . revelations. 
> 
> ~ J. Dominique


	13. Legend of the Four Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is penultimate chapter. I can't believe we're almost to the end. Thank you guys so much for reading this whole story! You're brilliant. This chapter is fairly long, and somewhat melancholy, with a bit of crying. You could say this is really more of the final chapter, and that the next chapter is more of the epilogue. Either one works. The song for this chapter is "Legends of Four Dragons." Enjoy!

_Chapter 13_

_Legend of the Four Dragons_

* * *

My mother liked to read. She used to tell me many stories . . . that’s mainly what I remember of her. Her smooth voice lulling me to sleep, night after night. She wove tales of romance and adventure, of winding plots and dangerous secrets. She told of magic, not unlike the Seiryuu’s, and how destiny will find us all.

I was always fascinated by her stories. I wondered how she came by them — she must’ve made them up, I thought. There’s no way, in a village like mine, that she could’ve actually gotten a hold of books.

And it’s true. I do think she made up a great deal of the stories she told me. Some of them she even recorded, so she could remember them, and so others could, too. A permanent fixture to tell people that she was there.

Before Mother died, she gave me one of the books she’d written. A thin notebook full of flowing, inked words and small but elaborate pictures. Every time I felt sad, cornered and caged, I would turn to the book. Because I knew it was hers and it was like she herself was telling me the stories. I found comfort in the thrilling adventures and nothing could calm me down like a sweet fairytale romance.

When I was seven years old, Father found me reading the book. I’ve never seen him angrier. His whole face turned red and the veins in his neck bulged. He screamed at me for disobeying him and then he seized the book from me, grabbed me by the hair, and threw it in the fire. He made me watch as it burned, the flames licking the delicate pages and withering the beautiful drawings.

I’d never cried more in my life. The smell of smoke. Father’s satisfied glare. My raw throat. The knowledge that he had stolen my last remnant of her.

Or so I thought.

* * *

_Hey, Shin-Ah, would you like to . . ._

_Hey, Shin-Ah, do you mind . . ._

_Hey. Shin-Ah. Will you please . . ._

No matter how I phrase it, the words will not come out from my mouth. Because they are selfish. A selfish question.

_Come with me._

_I want you._

_I need you._

But no. The world needs him. I am insignificant, unworthy, with no place in his destiny. I am in his way. Such a bother, right?

I glance down at my hands and rub my fingers together. The sun is rising, the sky lightening at the edges, but the cold of the night still lingers. Standing up, I move to collect the wood around the clearing and assemble it in a pile for the fire. Over and over again, I reposition the firewood, trying for a perfect arrangement. Not that I care. But because I need some mindless work to distract me.

Shin-Ah returns, having gone out briefly to retrieve something for breakfast. He was quick, no doubt having spotted something immediately and taking it down with ease.

“I started the fire already,” I say unnecessarily. The flames leap up, yellow and orange like the sun bursting above the horizon. I lean nearer, taking in the heat.

“Thank you,” he says. He lays down a rabbit and begins to prepare it with swift, skilled movements. In only a few moments, it’s already roasting above the fire. The delicious smoky smell wafts into the air among the sparks flickering into the air.

We are in no hurry, though. Both of us know that we are stalling for time.

We’re not worried about Ki-Gun or the elders coming after us. Not really. What can they do, after all, against the Seiryuu? They hold nothing against him.

The meat cooks. We eat. Stare at the ground in silence.

Minutes pass.

The sun is high in the sky now.

Should I say something? Or should I wait for him to say something? Although if I do the latter, we might be waiting a very long time indeed.

However, to my surprise, he is the first to speak.

First, my name: “Ae-Sun,” he says.

I glance around, even though I know he’s the only one in the vicinity and the only who’d be calling my name, and then reluctantly look at him (even though I can’t exactly look him in the eyes — he’d put his mask on to go hunting and hadn’t taken it off).

“You should read . . . the notebook,” he says, his voice quiet. “Your mother’s.”

My heart slows. I had nearly forgotten about that.

No, I had tried to make myself forget about that. Not because I don’t want to know what it says . . . I desperately want to know, so much my heart aches. But I’m scared. The last time I had something of Mother’s, it was violently taken away from me. Now, of course, I know that won’t happen. Father is not here anymore. He cannot threaten me anymore. He does not hold anything over me anymore.

But still, I am scared.

And plus . . . what is in that book? What is in it that Father would keep it hidden all these years after Mother died? I know he never loved her, so it’s not sentimental.

Before I can doubt myself, I take a deep breath and reach inside my bag where I’d stowed the notebook. I pull it out tenderly, as if the binding is fragile, the pages incredibly thin, the ink so faded and smudged I might erase the words if I press too hard.

I open to the first page. The sight of her handwriting starts my heart pounding.

_Long ago, a new land was created_

I shut the book. I squeeze my eyes shut. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

I feel him near me, his shoulder sliding against mine. He removes the book from my hands and I hear the rustle of pages. Then his voice washes over me, low and soft.

“‘Long ago, a new land was created, but it was disregarded by the gods, for its inhabitants were like children, innocent and small in their ways. The dragon gods looked upon this land and saw it as weak, the inhabitants of the world — called humans — were disgusting creatures, they thought, full of vile intentions and no true depth. But one dragon god in particular looked upon this new land and saw promise. He saw people whose minds worked in brilliant, unique ways, who had compassion to do amazing things, and the potential to find and carve themselves new pathways in their fates.’”

His voice is beautiful and I’m amazed by how well he’s learned to read already. How much studying has he done without my knowledge? I know I didn’t teach him all those words. I keep my eyes closed, the words resonating through me.

“‘This dragon was called Hiryuu. He was much loved by his fellow dragons and when he decided to go down to the new land and take a form as a human, they mourned and missed him greatly. The Red Dragon took the name of King Hiryuu and established the kingdom of Kouka that we see now today. For the first several years of his reign, the people loved and revered him. He was a wise, kind, and fair king. He was knowledgeable, honorable, and courageous on battle. Many people who fought with him compared his brilliant red hair to that of the rising sun at dawn, bringing hope to all for a new day.

“‘But all was not to be well forever. Over the years, dissent grew, and slowly the people of Kouka Kingdom began to revolt against King Hiryuu. Turning on their once beloved king, they sentenced him to death. King Hiryuu accepted this, but right before he was killed by his own people, four of the dragon gods, the Hakuryuu, the Seiryuu” — here, Shin-Ah stumbles slightly before continuing — “the Ryokuryuu, and the Ouryuu, appeared before him. They had never forgotten their bonds with Hiryuu and had come to save him at the last moment. If he wished, they would destroy the humans who had betrayed him with all their power and rage.

“‘But King Hiryuu rebuked them. He said, “No, I am human now . . . even though the humans may hate me, betray me . . . I cannot help but love them.”

“‘The four dragons were surprised by this answer, but they accepted Hiryuu’s will as their own. However, they would not let him die. And so, they decided to impart their magical blood to four humans whom they found worthy to serve and protect Hiryuu, to love him and never betray him.

“‘With the help of the humans strengthened by the four dragons’ blood, King Hiryuu eradicated the evil in Kouka Kingdom and restored his rightful place on the throne. But then, he was weary. As he lay on his deathbed, he thought to himself: “Yes, it was hard, it was full of adversity and conflicting desires, but now I have found myself even more complete than before. The humans have taught me more in this one, short lifetime of theirs than I could ever have learned in my own immortality. I am glad . . .” and he took his last breath.

“‘The four humans with their dragon blood mourned the King’s passing. They knew the power they possessed was dangerous if found in the wrong hands, so they separated from each other and moved to different parts of the kingdom, establishing their own clans to protect the secrets of the dragons’ blood.’”

We are both quiet.

When I open my eyes and look up, Shin-Ah’s looking toward the horizon. From what little I can see of his face, it’s blank. It’s impossible to decipher what he’s thinking. What does he think of a tale like that? To know that there are others like him out there?

I have never heard this tale before. It sounds fantastical, something like a dream. If I didn’t know Shin-Ah, I wouldn’t think it was real. But since I do, it’s not hard to believe that the story could very well be the origin story of his powers.

More dragons. More people like him . . . with ferocious, uncontrollable powers. What would I do if Shin-Ah met them? Rather, what would he do?

Shin-Ah shakes his head slightly, as if coming out of a daze, and turns back to the book and says, “There’s more.”

He holds the book forward before both of us under some silent agreement and we read together.

_Dear So-Young, I went and saw your son today. He was so quiet, just staring up at me with those big beautiful of eyes of his the whole time. (Yes! I took off his mask. What a rebel I am. And see? I’m not stone. I told you the curse wasn’t real.) He drank all of the milk I brought him and wanted more. Ao was sleeping the whole time. That man really has no idea how to take care of a baby, does he? I suppose it’s really not his fault, though. I wish you were still here, So-Young. Didn’t we agree one day to marry our kids? Love, Mi-Cha._

I close my eyes briefly and again wonder what Shin-Ah is thinking. This is my mother . . . talking about his mother . . . who killed herself. (And, on a less serious note, this is my mother talking about wanting to marry the two of us someday.)

_Dear So-Young, I saw your son again today. I might have to stop soon, though. He’s growing up so quickly; he might start remembering who I am. He is very sweet and cute and you can see that Ao’s gotten a bit better at feeding him. You would be proud of him, So-Young, if only you could see him. I don’t understand you. I don’t understand this village. What is so wrong about the Seiryuu? He is just a child. Your son. I made him smile and laugh today, but I had to leave right afterward because Ao was beginning to wake up. Love, Mi-Cha._

_Dear So-Young, I’ve been waiting for this moment. Anticipating and dreading it. Your son said his very first word today. It was “ao.” I nearly cried. Ao himself will know soon, too. I can tell he’s fallen in love with the boy. Who could not, if they really spent time with him? He is a beautiful thing. You loved him so much, didn’t you, So-Young? But then he was born and you saw the red markings under his eyes . . . and that destroyed you. But why? I don’t understand._

_Anyway, my time with little Seiryuu is up now. If he can recognize Ao, he can most certainly recognize me. I just hope he will soon forget me, being as young as he is. It broke my heart, though, to leave him today. He watched me leave from his window. He was wearing that terrible mask of his. I just want to rip it off every time I see it on him. I want to show his beautiful eyes to the world. I want to proclaim, “Here, look! These are the eyes of the Seiryuu! Do you think they are a curse now? Can you not see the beauty in them? See what a gift they are. See how I have fallen in love.” I dare you not to. Love, Mi-Cha._

_Dear So-Young, I have fallen sick again. I fear my time is near. I knew, of course, that I couldn’t fight it for long. It’s all right. When I join you, I’ll be able to tell you every single detail about your son. I know you didn’t want to leave him, not really. So why did you? I don’t understand. But when I come to you, you can tell me all about it. So wait for me, So-Young. I’m coming. It’s not long now . . . Love, Mi-Cha._

I blink back tears and my vision becomes blurry. I close my eyes and bury my face in Shin-Ah’s shoulder. I don’t know if he’s still reading or not. I don’t care. My mother is talking about her death . . . she is accepting it. Why, why, why? My chest hurts, aches . . .

“I think I remember,” Shin-Ah murmurs. “Your mother . . . I don’t know . . . I think it was her. She was warm, kind, gentler than Ao was . . .”

I bite my lip and the urge to just turn away, turn away forever tugs at me, but I lift my face and force myself to read on.

My heart stops when I see who the next letter is addressed to.

_Dear Ae-Sun, if you are reading this, I may have given you the wrong impression. Going on and on about how beautiful the Seiryuu was. I want you to know, though, that no one could outshine you. To me, you were always like the sun itself. A light to my world. You make me smile every time I think of you. I want you to know . . . that I am truly sorry for having to leave you. I wish I could stay, I wish I could be with you forever. To see you grow up and become a woman. To see you learn many new things, see the passion and curiosity in your eyes. To hear of your first kiss and watch you take off your mask when you marry. I wish I could see all that, but my time is up now, and I have to go. I’m so sorry, but I want you to know, that I love you so, so much. You are my everything. Love, Mother._

Her handwriting has gotten shakier, thin and frail. I don’t really remember the days when Mother was sick. I think I’ve tried to block them out. I’ve always just wanted to remember her when she was happy and healthy, laughing and telling me stories. I didn’t want to think of her as sickly, coughing, pale, her voice cracking . . . I never wanted to think of my mother as dying. But now, the memories flood back to me. Her sallow skin, her sunken eyes, dull, but still filled with love. The way she held out a trembling hand to me and I held it, just held it, for hours and hours until . . .

Shin-Ah brings his hand to my head and rubs it gently. My shaking body stills. I swallow. There is one more letter.

_Dear Seiryuu, I have watched you since you were young, just a baby. And like with my own child, I wish I could watch you until you become a man, into your own strength and person. I wish I could watch when the time comes for you to show the world your gifts. I know it will be hard for you, I know there will be times when you simply feel like giving up. Ao will not always be there, but someday, I promise you, there will be someone who will be able to see past the lies and deceptions of these people. They will be able to see the real you. I hope they will be able to guide you to a brighter place, a world where you will never have to hide your face from the sun again. Love, Mi-Cha._

He squeezes me tighter and then, for a moment, I am holding him up as much as he is holding me up.

There is one more small part and as I read it, surely the last thing Mother ever wrote before she died, the tears finally come.

_One more thing: I hope Ae-Sun will be the one to look past the fear and the hate and see your beauty. She has my blood, so perhaps she will have my beliefs. So-Young and I always did hope our two children would fall in love._

_Mother,_ I think, _are you happy where you are now? Your wish came true._

* * *

I’ve been crying for a while now. I think he has cried, too, perhaps at least a few tears. I, however, have no qualms with burying my face into his shoulder and sobbing and wailing. It is like her death is fresh in my mind now, the grief and pain I’d felt so many years ago raw and aching again.

I see why Father kept the notebook now. To him, it would be a painful reminder.

He hates her so much. He hates her because she fell in love with the Seiryuu, everything he despises and fears. He hates her because she was able to see something beautiful and smile, when all he saw was something evil and all he could do was run away in horror. She was brave, going out in the sunlight, and he was a coward, hiding and manipulating in the shadows.

I can see why my father kept the notebook. To remind him of everything he’s done wrong and why he’s done it. So he can’t admit that maybe, just maybe, he’s messed up. He wants to hate, fear, lie, and deceive. Because that’s all he knows.

* * *

The sun is setting now. Some might say we have wasted a whole day. But I say no. It is our last day together — I say it is well spent. Any time with Shin-Ah . . . I will love and cherish.

Shin-Ah’s gone to find some fish in the nearby stream for dinner while I look around for edible plants growing. Ao races around our small campsite, generally hindering us, but together we manage to make a little feast over the fire.

“Be prepared,” I warn Shin-Ah. “I’m not much of a cook. I was always the one going to procure the food, so no ever really taught me how to _prepare_ it.”

He smiles and takes a bite of the slightly burnt fish I’d carefully seasoned with some herbs I’d found growing around. He swallows slowly, and for a moment doesn’t say anything.

I’m about to ask him if it was really that bad when —

He laughs.

I start and nearly spill my own food into my lap.

Have I ever heard him laugh before? I don’t know.

But I love it. Of course, how could I not? I love everything about him.

I love his hands, his hair, his eyes, his voice, his smile, and now his laugh. Even that stupid mask of his, I love it. I love his sincerity and his curiosity, his quick ability to learn, his high perception and observation skills. I love how even when everyone turns against him and hates him, he is still so sweet and caring. How even when he is scared and alone, he is still himself. Brave and selfless and kind.

I love him

I —

I begin to cry again.

“I don’t want to leave —” I start between sobs. “I don’t want to leave you! I — I want to be with you forever!”

I can tell by the way he’s stilled that he’s stunned. But I can’t see what he’s thinking because of his mask. I want to see . . . I want to know . . .

“But I know,” I continue blabbering on, the tears streaking down my face, “I know that you have a destiny and all . . . I know that there’s someone out there waiting for you . . . You have a gift to be used for the good of this world and I know . . . I know I am only in the way . . . but I can’t help it . . . I’m so selfish. . . . _I want you!_ ”

I’m still holding the uneaten fish in my hands. The fire crackles merrily before us. Ao squeaks.

Shin-Ah holds his food aside and Ao immediately races up and grabs it. Then, slowly, he stands up.

He reaches up and unties the strings of his mask and takes it off.

I drop my food and Ao promptly comes to clean that up, too.

He’s closed his eyes out of habit. For a moment, I’m just staring up at him. He looks so strong and beautiful, the setting sun behind him casting shadows through his blue hair and his clothes.

He opens his eyes and looks straight at me. I am completely still, as if paralyzed (which I suppose isn’t really funny, considering). He says, “You’re right.”

What? I am?

“I do have a destiny,” he goes on. “But you’re also wrong.”

I am?

“You are . . . not in my way.” He furrows his brow as if he’s considering what to say next. “I am going back . . . to the village. But someday, I will find you. I promise. Because . . .” He hesitates, then as if steeling himself, he says, “I will find you again because you are my only way.”

I’m not really sure if I’m breathing right now.

Is the world rotating right now? Surely not. It seems like everything has just gone still, every person and thing frozen in this single moment.

Then he moves and the spell breaks. I can hear the fire again, the sound of the wind moving through the trees. I can taste the salt of my tears in my mouth and feel the puffiness of my eyes.

He walks toward me and pulls me up beside him.

“Ae-Sun?” He looks a little uncertain now, a little embarrassed and shy.

As I smile, I feel my heart pounding and swelling with so much love, it feels like it could burst. “Yes,” I say. “Yes. When you do . . . when you do find me, I’ll be waiting.”

He smiles then, too. A brilliant smile and it lights up his whole face.

I think to myself: I have never seen a more beautiful sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh . . . So sad. So yes, I paraphrased the legend of the four dragons a bit, adding and removing bits of the tale to my liking (that's what storytelling is, after all). And then the letters might've seemed to come out of nowhere, but there was really nothing much on Ae-Sun's mother other than a bit of foreshadowing here and there, or whatever was up with her father, so that was sort of its purpose. 
> 
> I feel like some of my romance is so cheesy. I'm not very good at writing romantic lines, haha. Oh well. Shin-Ah's probably pretty awkward anyway, and I doubt Ae-Sun cares. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. And thanks for sticking with this story up until now! It's been a journey (not a really long one, but still, a nice one). 
> 
> ~ J. Dominique


	14. Dear, Blue Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys. The final chapter. I can't believe it. I feel like crying (and I've just re-read through the chapter and am smiling like an idiot as well). I want to thank all of you who have read this!
> 
> So . . . the last chapter. The end. After a slightly depressing ending, this one is mainly fluff, with some cheesy romance. You can view it as a sort of epilogue (though sort of a long one, being nearly 4,000 words). I hope it won't disappoint you. 
> 
> The song for this chapter is "Dear, Blue Dragon." (It makes me happy that Shin-Ah has two songs named after him!)

_Chapter 14_

_Dear, Blue Dragon_

* * *

I am washing my hands in the stream, scrubbing grease from some tender, cooked-just-right fish (if I do say so myself), when I hear it. The sound of horses and the clanging of armor and weapons. Loud chattering and laughter.

Quickly, with instincts honed by several mistakes and their dire consequences, I make sure my mask is secure, sling my bow over my back, throw my few items into my pack, and scramble to the nearest tree. It’s an old, thick tree with many branches and thick foliage. Perfect. Shimmying up the trunk, I find purchase several branches up to wait and watch the group pass by.

It’s a company of Fire Tribe soldiers. They’re making no move to be quiet, although I don’t suppose they would, being who they are; with their swords, spears, and heavy armor, they hardly need to worry about being attacked. I crouch lower to my branch and hope I’m high enough to be shaded by the leaves. I doubt any of them will see me, though. The Fire Tribe soldiers aren’t exactly the observant types — most of them are only taught to be aggressive.

Once the soldiers have passed by, leaving the area quiet and still once more, I involuntarily let out a sigh of relief. It’s not like I’m on the run from the soldiers. I’m not a criminal by any means. I just prefer to avoid people if I can. I stay up in the tree for another few minutes in case there are any stragglers or people scouting behind.

Just once I’ve deemed it safe, though, I hear a sound of another group — this one is not quite as loud, though I can make out an annoyed voice and then laughter. Smaller, then, and maybe a group of traveling friends, companions rather than soldiers. Wishing I had the time to climb higher up in the tree (though I have not yet mastered the art of climbing trees without making a racket), I lower myself again and try to resemble the bark.

I close my eyes and wait for them to pass.

Then I hear shouting.

“Hey, Shin-Ah! Stop! Wait up!”

I jerk, my eyes flying open.

Wait. What?

Peeking past the tree limb and its leaves, I see a form racing toward my tree. Or at least my vicinity, but somehow I know it’s my tree and sure enough, the person stops directly under me.

They look up.

My heart stops.

The person has a mask over their face with a white wolf pelt attached to the back, but underneath you can see blue hair poking out. He wears dark blue clothing, two ceremonial necklaces, and a sword strapped to his back.

I would recognize him immediately.

He hasn’t changed much, it seems.

My body seems to move of its own accord. Scrambling. Jerky movements. Unaware of what it’s doing.

Clearly, because the next thing I know — I’m falling.

He catches me, of course.

There I am, crashing down through the trees, the sticks scraping against my skin, the ground racing toward me — and then somehow I can feel him reaching toward me. Grabbing my flailing hand first, then catching the rest of my body into his arms.

For a moment, I just blink, in a sort of daze. He gently sets me down and I drop my pack and my bow.

He cocks his head, just staring at me, then he taps his mask and I realize I’m still wearing my own. It has become so familiar to me because I hardly take it off now. Oh. This is how he feels, then.

I rip the thing off, breaking the string that holds it in place, and throw it to the ground.

His mouth opens slightly and he breathes out. “Ae-Sun.”

I can’t stand it any longer — a smile spreads over my face, happiness bubbling up inside me, overflowing like a great fountain. I reach forward and start to untie the strings of his mask.

Someone shouts, “Wait, don’t do that!”

That’s when I remember he wasn’t alone and I stop, leaving his mask in place.

I revolve slowly to face a group of six other people. There is one boy with yellow hair and clothes, a smile etched on his face. Another with long green hair tied back, who has an air of bored interest. A third man is dressed in white with striking blue eyes, white hair, and an arm shaped like a claw. Next to him, there is a short cute-looking boy with a squirrel on his shoulder.

“Ao!” I cry out. “You’re here, too!”

“How do you know Ao?” the short boy says sharply.

Next to him, there is a large man with dark hair clothed in blue, a surly look on his face as he observes me. He places his arm protectively around the final member of the group, a young-looking girl with short, brilliant red hair and a curious but wary look on her face. Like me, she has a bow. I recognize her to be the one to first call out.

“Who are you?” she asks, her tone not unfriendly. “My name is Yona . . . how do you know Shin-Ah?”

I smile broadly, and she and the blue-clothed man give each other a look. I erase the smile, realizing that I might look a little crazy right now. “I’m sorry,” I say. “It just makes me happy to hear someone using his name. You’re his friends, right?”

Yona considers me. “Yes. We are. You’re his friend, too?”

“Yes.”

Well, hopefully a bit more still.

I glance up at Shin-Ah and he squeezes my shoulder.

The short boy with Ao on his shoulder leans over to Yona and whispers something in her ear. Her eyes widen. “Oh!” she says. “So this is why you wanted to come this way, Shin-Ah? Were you two . . . ?”

I blink. “Um . . .”

Shin-Ah pulls me closer and the whole group’s eyes widen. He says, “Yes.”

I smile again, this time even wider if possible.

It has been more than two years since I left the village. More than two years since I last saw him. More than two years since I’ve been living on my own. At first, it was terrible. I was always so lonely and scared, hungry and desperate. But every time I felt like giving up . . . I’d think of him and I’d remember that he went through things like this, too, and he never gave up. He fought on. And so I did, too. I survived. I learned and I adapted. And after a while, my stomach no longer rumbled all the time. I found areas on the ground that didn’t dig into my back. I was able to bargain and communicate with people along the roads without totally looking like an idiot because of my lack of knowledge about the world.

These last few months have become so routine for me that I’ve barely thought of anything else other than making it to the next day. I wander around, visiting every town I can, reading a lot, and experiencing as much as I can. I try not to think about my old life too much, about Father and Ki-Gun.

But Shin-Ah . . . I always think about him too much.

When I left the village, I wasn’t sure what I expected. For us to reunite in a few months? A few years? Decades? Never?

I don’t know.

When you consider everything, though, two years really isn’t that bad.

Suddenly, the whole fact seems unreal, impossible. It must be a dream. He can’t be here. Right here. In front of me. Staring at me like I’m the only thing in the world. It’s not real, it’s not possible.

The very thing I’ve been dreaming of for so long . . . is happening?

The world starts to spin around me.

I hear gasping and shouting, but all I know are his arms around me.

* * *

When I wake, it’s dark out, and I’m leaning against a tree, Shin-Ah’s wolf fur over me. He himself sits beside me, hunched over and staring forward. We seemed to have stayed in the same area, the stream nearby, and a fire burning before us, something delicious-smelling cooking over the flames.

It wasn’t a dream.

I find myself thinking, _Finally. Finally I am back with him. Finally . . ._

He is so close, so warm, and I revel in the fact. Ao sits on my knee, sleeping and basking in the warmth of the fire.

“Shin-Ah,” I say softly.

He turns to me. “Are you . . . all right?”

“I’m sorry. Did I frighten you? It was just . . . I was so happy. To be back with you.”

He entwines his fingers with mine. “Me, too.”

The girl, Yona, approaches us and, when seeing me awake, says, “Ae-Sun, right? Are you feeling better now?”

I nod and she hands me a plate of whatever was cooking over the fire.

“That’s a lovely name.”

“Thank you,” I say. “My mother named me.” I dip my spoon into the bowl and bring the food to my lips. “This is so good!”

She smiles. “Yoon made it.”

From the other end of the campsite, I see the short boy turn at the sound of his name and glance over at me. I smile at him and repeat, “This is so good.” His cheeks redden and he hurriedly looks away.

Yona laughs. “Yoon can cook anything. What about you? Are you a good cook?”

Shin-Ah lets out a low laugh and I elbow him in the side. “I’ve gotten a lot better, I’ll have you know,” I tell him. “Several nice women taught me how to make a proper meal. Even _you’d_ like it.”

“Shin-Ah?” Yona looks surprised. “He eats anything.”

I look at her. “Oh, no, it’s just a joke. I used to be terrible once and he tried it and . . . well, it wasn’t good.”

She laughs again. “Oh, I see. It’s great that you two are such good friends. I’m so happy for you two.”

I smile at her. “Thank you.” I’m already warming up to the girl. Not only is she nice and understanding, but she’s also brave and I can see the loyalty to her companions written clearly on her face. When she shouted at me to stop from taking Shin-Ah’s mask off, it was to protect him because she didn’t know what my intentions were. I respect her for that.

She leans forward to me eagerly. “So I saw that you have a bow. Are you any good with it?”

“Well . . .”

“She’s amazing,” Shin-Ah says.

“Really?” Yona’s eyes widen. “You mind giving me some pointers? I’ve just started learning recently. I try and practice often as I can. I only get in about two hundred arrows every night, though.”

_“Two hundred arrows every night?”_ I say, looking at her, shocked. “Are you kidding me? How are you _not_ good?”

“Don’t be too humble, Hime-sama,” the dark-haired surly one says, sitting down beside Yona. “We all know that you think yourself awesome at your archery skills.”

“That’s not true, Hak,” Yona says, a sour but affectionate look on her face.

Then it clicks. “‘Hime-sama’?” I echo. I turn to Yona. “You’re . . . You’re Princess Yona?”

For a moment, her eyes darken. “Yes.”

“I-I’m so sorry!” I cry as I stand up and lower myself into a bow. My knees shake.

“No, no!” she says. “It’s okay. You don’t have to. I’m not really . . . well, I mean, I am, but . . . you don’t have to. Please, just call me Yona. Hak is the only one who still calls me Hime-sama.”

Hak, I notice, doesn’t look too pleased by this. Understanding surges through me and I suddenly feel a bout of pity for the man. No wonder he looks so surly all the time.

“Anyway,” Yona continues, “now that you know who I am, I suppose I should introduce you to the rest of the group. Hak, please bring the others over here.”

He bows slightly, still looking miffed, and goes to retrieve the four other members of the group.

“This is Kija,” Yona begins, motioning to the white-haired man with the arm shaped like a claw, “the Hakuryuu.” I realize his arm must represent a dragon’s claw. What kind of power is that, I wonder?

Kija bows before me and says, “It is so wonderful that our beloved Seiryuu has one he can hold dear to his heart.” The Hakuryuu wipes the edge of his eye and sniffles. Shin-Ah shifts uncomfortably next to me and I grin at him.

“This is Jae-Ha,” Yona continues, “the Ryokuryuu.”

The man with the long green hair steps forward and bows, too.

“What’s your power?” I ask him.

He smiles wickedly at me. “I have the leg of a dragon,” he says, “which grants me the ability to soar through the skies. By the way, Shin-Ah, not bad. She scores a solid eight with me. Lovely hair. Darling, has anyone ever told you that your eyes remind one of the sky? You know, the one that I soar through . . .”

Jae-Ha suddenly flies backward and it takes me a moment to realize that Shin-Ah had stepped forward and shoved him with the butt of his sword.

The Ryokuryuu sits up, rubbing his stomach, but still smiling somehow. A creepy smile, I note. “It’s usually Hak that punches me,” he says, “but you do throw a good hit, too, Seiryuu.”

Yona rolls her eyes at me and says, “He’s like this all the time, but it looks like you’ll be fine with Shin-Ah looking out for you. Next, this is Zeno the Ouryuu.”

The yellow-haired boy, who looks to be the youngest of them besides Yoon, bounds forward and bows. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss!” he says in a jovial voice.

“You, too,” I say, smiling. He seems like the sweet sort who’d always cheer you up.

“So that’s our group, each of which seem to have given you the sum of their personalities. . . .” Yona narrows her eyes at them, although there’s something tender in there, too. “Anyway. You’re welcome to join us, of course. I can’t really turn you away since you and Shin-Ah . . .” She blushes, seemingly uncomfortable.

I feel my cheeks heating up, too.

But then I realize the full impact of her words. “Wait. You’re . . . letting me join?”

“Of course,” she says. “I would never turn you away.”

“But . . . I’m not anything special. I can’t do anything. I’m not a part of any prophecy. I don’t have a destiny!” My voice becomes a little frantic.

“Shin-Ah said you’re great with the bow,” Yona says, her eyes shining with admiration. “We could use another long-range fighter. And I’m sure you have many other talents. Besides, Yoon here isn’t part of the prophecy, and he’s one of the most important people in the group.”

Yoon nods (importantly, I might add). “That’s right,” he says. “I can cook, clean, sew, heal, make explosives, and I’ve even self-titled myself the ‘handsome genius.’”

“That’s right,” Hak chimes in. “You can make up your own title and cram yourself into the prophecy. I’m the evil Dark Dragon, by the way.”

“Too right you are,” Kija mutters.

“I . . .” I swallow and I can feel tears threatening to spill at the corners of my eyes. I swipe them away, embarrassed. “I don’t know to say. T-thank you . . . thank you so much.”

Yona smiles and leans forward to whisper in my ear. “Plus, it will be good to have another girl in the group. Ao and I were getting lonely.”

I laugh softly. “Thank you. Again. For everything.”

* * *

The rest of the night is spent getting to know the rest of the dragons, Hak, Yona, and Yoon. They are a lively group and I can tell already there’ll will be no shortage of fun and laughter with them. Already, I can begin to feel the wards I’d put around myself these last few years disappearing. It seem natural once again to leave my face bare. Perhaps because I, unlike Shin-Ah, have not lived my whole life with it.

Yoon finally demands everyone to go to sleep, saying that we have a big day of traveling to do tomorrow, and he won’t have us falling behind schedule. I smile at the younger boy’s abrasive nature. How odd it will be. To wake up at different time, to follow another’s rules and routines.

I won’t mind, though.

Because now I will have other people watching my back. I will have other people to help find food or set up camp. I am not alone anymore.

I am with him.

The boy in question sits near the edge of the group, staring up at the moon, his back to me. I walk up behind him and wrap my arms around his neck and lay my chin on his shoulder. He grasps my hand from the front and turns his head slightly.

“I missed you,” I breathe, my eyes closed. “Did you . . . did you miss me?”

“Yes.”

I smile at the quickness and the frankness of the answer.

“I saw you,” he starts, “from miles away. . . . At first, I couldn’t believe it. I thought my eyes must’ve been playing tricks on my mind. But they’ve never failed me . . . not like that. So I asked Yoon if we could change direction . . . I’m glad.”

“Me, too,” I say. “I’m glad you found me . . . and I’m glad that Yona . . . and everyone else found you.”

He lets out a sigh, a small contented one.

“I looked for them, you know,” I say. “The other dragons. I don’t know what I thought I’d do if I met one of them. Point them in your direction? I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to know what they were like. In the end, though, I never did find one.” I let out a small chuckle. “Though I did get dangerously close to Kija, I think. Before his clan sent me running from that fog forest of his.”

He stays quiet for a moment. Then, “They are not what I expected. But then . . . maybe they are more. Better.”

He shifts and turns so we’re facing each other. I breathe in and out. He still smells like the mountains, which brings a horde of memories back to me. But he also smells like the sky, fresh, clear air, which promises a bright future.

Shin-Ah lowers his head, nearing me — then I hear a cough. I jump and glance around, catching sight of Hak, who is still awake. He leans against a tree and raises his eyebrow at me. Then he jerks his head.

I nod and I look back at Shin-Ah. “Let’s go,” I say.

“Go?”

“Not far,” I say. “Just somewhere . . . private.”

He nods and he wraps his hand around mine. And then we take off running. His hand is as warm and smooth as I remember it. I wonder if mine is still familiar. Probably not. It has become rough and dirty and scarred. But I know he doesn’t care. I wouldn’t care, after all.

A few minutes later, we reach another break in the woods, and we stop, both breathless. The trees around us are evenly spaced and vines creep over the branches, but still the moonlight shines through the open space. I lean over, letting go of his hand for a moment, and I start to laugh. Giggle. Cry out with happiness. Whatever.

I lift my hands up, throwing them to the sky, to the stars and the moon.

Then I turn to him, my mind filled with so many words, racing and tripping over each other. I want to tell him how I’ve waited and longed for this day, how I knew he’d find me, somehow, no matter how dark my days got, how I love him so much, and —

My breath catches.

During my outburst of happiness, he’d been smiling. And he’d taken off his mask.

The light from the moon seems to shine right onto his face. And it’s just as I remember it. The eyes that have filled my dreams, the face that has flooded every waking moment of my life.

I say, “Beautiful.”

He glances down and I see the little flush of embarrassment glowing on his cheeks. “I don’t understand,” he mutters. “Why . . . my powers . . . they don’t hurt you.”

“You don’t want to hurt me, right? Can it not be that simple? Only intention activates the power?”

He shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know, but . . . I am glad. That you can . . . see me.”

A smile extends over my lips. “I’m glad, too. I’m so, so glad.” I reach forward and trace a line down his cheek, starting from the red marking down to the curve of his jaw. “I’m glad you have friends now, too. Though I am a little jealous.”

His brow wrinkles. “Jealous?”

“Yes,” I say. “Because now I won’t have you all to myself.”

“Oh.” For a moment, he just processes this, and then the blush on his cheeks deepens. “But . . . but you know . . .”

“Yes?” I prompt him, my smile widening.

His cheeks are bright red now as he whispers, “You’ve always had me all to yourself.”

I am smiling so hard I feel as if my face is about to break. I say, “I love you. Did you know that?”

He looks me directly in the eyes.

“Yes. I love you. . . . Did you know that?”

Blue hair. Pale skin. Red markings. Golden eyes.

_I see you, Shin-Ah._

I kiss him in reply.

For a moment, all is bliss and fluttering in my stomach. My pounding heart and the heat of his lips against mine.

Then he pulls away from me briefly, looking dazed. He says, “Do you remember . . . what Hak said? About giving yourself your own title . . . and making yourself fit into the prophecy?”

I nod.

“I want you . . . I want you to be a part of my destiny. . . . You helped me find my name . . . so can I help you find yours?”

For a fraction of a second, I feel like crying. Because of the perfection of it. Because of the insurmountable joy and happiness I feel right now. Because he’s standing before me right now, and that’s all I need.

I say, “Yes. Yes!”

He smiles and kisses me again. “Then . . . ,” he murmurs, his lips only an inch from mine, “you are my Sunshine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gahhh, that last line is so cheesy . . . but honestly, I could see no other way to end it. I hope Shin-Ah and the other members of the gang weren't too out of character. I had a lot of fun writing them; since this story has mostly just been Ae-Sun, Shin-Ah, and assorted OCs, it was refreshing to write some other canon characters. 
> 
> And then, whoa, time skip! Did you expect that? It was mentioned before that they were sixteen at the beginning of the story . . . and Shin-Ah's eighteen when he meets Yona, so . . . yep, two years. But since Ae-Sun gave Shin-Ah his name, I expect that when Yona went to find Shin-Ah, most everything else happened the same, except he knew about the legend of the four dragons, and he already had his name. I've read the manga all the way up to the English translated chapters (hurry up, translators, please!), so if you've read the manga, too, I'd say this epilogue takes place sometime after the anime and in the Fire Tribe arc, probably when they're running around pretending to be bandits. 
> 
> So, yes . . . THANK YOU AGAIN SO MUCH! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME AND BRILLIANT AND AMAZING. And of course, thanks to Kusanagi Mizuho, for creating such an amazing world and characters and story! And to all the directors and producers and seiyuu and composers for the anime for bringing it to life (I need a second season, please!). 
> 
> Reviews are appreciated! I always love constructive criticism, feedback, and praise (I mean, who doesn't like praise?). Thank you once again. I hope you enjoyed Sunshine and Moonlight! I know I sure did, and I really enjoyed sharing it with all of you. 
> 
> ~ J. Dominique


	15. BONUS CHAPTER 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I kept forgetting to update this story with the bonus chapters (there are two). But here they are! This one begins the morning after the last chapter. And it focuses more on how Ae-Sun adjusts to the gang and stuff. It turned out a lot longer than I expected. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

_BONUS CHAPTER 1_

* * *

“Now, I don’t believe we’ve covered this, but sneaking off is _not_ allowed. No matter the situation. I don’t care if you’ve recently reunited or if you’re, uh, you know, but — just no excuses!”

As Yoon’s angry (and albeit somewhat embarrassed face) glares at Shin-Ah and me, I feel adequately admonished. And also somewhat amused.

Twining my fingers through Shin-Ah’s, I say, “Sorry, Yoon. I’ll keep that in mind. It won’t happen again.”

Shin-Ah nods, and repeats my words. Yoon’s eyes dart down to our entangled hands and his face reddens further. He huffs and, spinning around, stomps off to finish breakfast.

“You’ll get used to him,” Hak says, approaching us from the side. He carries his large weapon in one hand, his hand placed around it with such familiarity that I’m sure it takes him no effort to use. “He just gets a bit touchy every time the group’s routine and monotony is disrupted.”

“I heard that!” Yoon yells from over by the fireplace.

I let out a small laugh. “No worries. It will be a new experience for all of us, I’m sure . . .” I glance around the campsite, where Zeno and Kija are still asleep, Jae-Ha is nowhere to be seen (maybe sneaking off _with_ permission?), and Yona has just come out from her tent, stretching and yawning as she walks over to help Yoon. With the fireplace in the middle, flames and sparks bursting into the air and warming the morning chill, the smell of Yoon’s wonderful cooking already emerging from the pot over the fire, and the small chatter coming from him and Yona, it’s hard to imagine that this scene is real.

That I’m here.

With Shin-Ah beside me.

I am still questioning it.

Last night, the two of us fell asleep together under the stars, the moonlight a blanket over us, and the sounds of our breathing mixing with the noises of the night. His heart had a steady rhythm, a nice beat, never-ending — with mine, it almost seemed to create a harmony, like a lullaby that could sing us to sleep.

When we woke, it was like waking from a dream — I guess that much _is_ true. This last day has been like a dream. Surreal and wonderful. But somehow real as well. Anyway, it’s good that I had Shin-Ah with me, because I doubt I could’ve found my way back to the campsite without his amazing eyesight.

And there’s where we found Yoon, chewing on his fingernails, his brow all wrinkled. When he saw us, he stood up and promptly started yelling.

Honestly, I can’t say I’m surprised. Traveling with a group, there’s bound to be some mishaps and misunderstandings and whatnot. If anything, I’m kind of looking forward to it — because that means I’m not alone. That there are other people to share my mistakes, and if possible, help me learn from them as well.

A few minutes later, Jae-Ha returns, with two rabbits in his arms. He offers them to Yoon, a proud smile on his face, and while Yoon accepts them, he shoos the green dragon away like he’s going to break something.

A smile forces its way onto my lips. I glance up at Shin-Ah. He glances down at me. We glance at each other. And at that moment, everything is perfect.

* * *

In the first few days, I forget that it’s been two years since we’ve seen each other. It’s like we’ve never parted at all . . . but then, reality starts to seep in again.

The thing is, it _has_ been two years. You can’t deny it, even if you want to. And the fact is, the two of us have changed. We’re no longer sixteen, and while it’s true that we may be a bit starry-eyed still, there are certain aspects to our relationship that I don’t think either of us understand yet.

“Hey, miss.”

I lift my head up and am surprised to see that it’s Zeno. He’d approached me while the others were packing up the camp and getting ready to leave. I was washing my hands in the nearby stream we slept by last night, and hadn’t heard him come toward me.

“You and the Seiryuu, huh?” he says. There is a light in his eyes, soft and gentle.

I tilt my head. “I suppose so,” I say. “Shin-Ah . . . well, I’ve always kind of loved him.”

Zeno smiles. “That’s great, miss. I’m glad to hear that. It’s real nice when there’s love in the air and all.”

I blink at him. He says it so plainly. But then again, I just told him I loved Shin-Ah without thinking.

“You should really treasure it,” he continues. “It must be fate that you reunited with him. You shouldn’t let that go to waste.”

“I won’t,” I promise.

* * *

“Shin-Ah.”

I start with saying his name.

Even though he’s not gifted with supernatural hearing, he turns at my voice. “Ae-Sun?”

It’s the middle of the night. All the others are asleep; I was, too, until a few moments ago, when something woke me.

“After I left,” I say. “What did you do?”

He’s quiet for several long moments. I concentrate on the sounds of the night, rather than dwell on what he might be thinking, and how he might answer. The flow of the wind cools my skin, and I can hear it brushing against the tree leaves, making a smooth shushing noise.

“For a while,” he says, “it was almost liked nothing changed.”

My hands clench.

He continues. “I kept expecting you to appear . . . but you didn’t. After a few days, I think that’s when I realized you weren’t ever going to come back.” He shifts slightly until he’s looking straight at me. “I . . . I wanted to go after you. There were several days when I made it as far as that small village outside of ours . . . I never could, though.”

My breath catches.

He wanted to come after me. He wanted to see me again. Just like, day after day, I yearned for him, and night after night, I curled up, alone, and wished I could go home, a place comfortable and safe, a place where I could be with him.

I lift my hand out to him and he intertwines his fingers with mine. “My father . . . ,” I start. “Is he . . . ?”

“He is fine. All the villagers are fine.”

I guess that includes Ki-Gun, too. Even if they’ve treated Shin-Ah horribly, I suppose I’m relieved. “You protected them,” I say.

He nods. “It’s my job.”

And I love that about him. How he is so serious and so loyal to his duty.

“And you?” he asks. “What . . . have you done?”

I don’t want to tell him of the nights I spent scared out of my wits that wolves were going to devour me, or the days I spent wandering and lost and hungry. I don’t want to tell him how lonely I’ve felt this past two years, because whatever I’ve felt, it probably pales in comparison to whatever he’s endured.

So I tell him of the good things I’ve experienced. The people I’ve met who’ve taught me to survive; the places I’ve visited, the things I never knew existed, all the wonderful stuff I’ve learned. He listens with rapt attention to my tales.

We talk for a long time. Hours. I don’t know.

We could go on for forever, maybe, but then I must’ve gotten too excited and raised my voice too loud, because Yoon wakes up and shouts at us to shut up.

 

 

It’s been a long time since I’ve been sent to do chores. Surprisingly, I find that I’ve kind of missed it — the feeling that someone needs something of you. It’s nice.

Yona and Kija are with me, chatting comfortably with each other. It’s almost unfair to have Kija with us since he’s doing most of the work: gathering firewood. Yona and I mostly scurry around and find small logs and twigs that we’ll then pile onto his dragon arm. I’m almost tempted to see how much he can carry, but I suppose that might be rude.

The air outside is cool, the morning still fresh, the sun refusing to come out of hiding from behind gray clouds. Even so, I swing my arms about, enjoying the briskness against my cheeks. It makes me feel alive, and I revel in it.

“Ae-Sun,” Yona says, and she suddenly crouches down.

I pause, and lower myself to the ground as well. Yona points a finger in the distance, and I realize that I’d been so distracted that I’d missed a fat hare hopping through the bushes. I chew on the inside of my cheek, and glance at Yona, questioning. Her eyes shines, and she nods at me.

We both brought our bows, Yoon telling us that if we found anything good, might as well try and get it (after all, most of our party _are_ guys). I suspect that Yona is perfectly capable of shooting the rabbit, but she’s probably testing me to see how good I am at archery. We are now rivals, she and I.

I grin to myself, and after slinging my bow off my shoulder, I slide an arrow from my quiver and slowly nock it. Hares are skittish creatures; Yona has good instincts — a step farther and we would’ve scared it off.

As I aim, I hear Kija’s breath quicken, then —

Two things happen at once:

Kija drops all our firewood.

I release my shot.

There’s a shout — Yona, I think — as all the wood goes tumbling to the ground, and the hare jolts upright. My arrow shoots past it, narrowly missing it as it darts away.

 _“I — I’m sorry!”_ Kija wails.

Yona and I glance at each other, and then we both erupt into laughter. Eventually, Kija tentatively joins in, wringing his hands and still looking somewhat distressed by his blunder.

On the way back, after we’ve gathered the firewood once again, Yona walks beside me, while Kija tromps ahead, so he can “guard us from anything that might attempt to attack.”

As we make our way through the thick forest, Yona says, “I suppose I’ll have to see you shoot some other time.”

“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of opportunities.”

“Shin-Ah seems to think you’re excellent.”

“I’m . . . not too bad.”

“Come now, don’t be modest,” she teases.

I give her a smile. “Father used to have me sewing and cooking and doing all sorts of the things he thought the girls of the village should do, but he eventually realized I wasn’t fit for that. Shin-Ah’s taught me a little bit of swordfighting, but I guess you could say I’m best at archery.”

Yona wrinkles her nose. “I’m not too good at that stuff either. Though, according to Hak, I’m not really good at anything.”

“Don’t listen to him,” I tell her. “He’s just —” I stop myself before I can say something that will get me killed by the overprotective bodyguard.

Yona doesn’t seem to notice. She shifts her bow across her shoulder and glances up at the skies, which are starting to clear, the blue shining through. “Do you ever wonder what you were really meant for?” she asks. Her voice is so soft that, for a moment, I wonder if I heard her right.

Up ahead, I hear Kija shout at something, and make some great shooing motion with his arms. Glancing back at Yona, I say, “All the time. When I lived in the Seiryuu village, I wondered what my purpose was. Was I just going to rot in that place forever, trying to be a woman or a warrior, or forced into something I wasn’t supposed to be in a place I didn’t want to stay? And then with Shin-Ah . . . and his destiny . . . I often wonder what I’m supposed to be in that.”

Yona is quiet for several moments. I wonder if I said too much. Opened myself up too soon. Then, her voice breaks the silence, slow and almost hushed. “That’s it exactly.”

My feet slow, and I turn to face her directly. She stops completely, and looks up at me. Her violet eyes are filled with an emotion I can’t quite decipher.  I wish — I really wish — that I could say the right thing right now.

But perhaps she doesn’t need it. She’s strong. Probably a lot stronger than me. She has gone through so much more, after all.

Instead of offering words of advice or comfort or wisdom, of which I have none, I say, “Can you tell me how you met Shin-Ah?”

A small smile slides onto her face at the memory. “It was pretty awful at first, actually. I’d gotten lost in the caves and one of the men of the village grabbed my arm. I don’t know where he was trying to lead me, but it was scary, and then — Shin-Ah saved me.”

I smile, too, because that is my Shin-Ah. Protector and savior of all.

“He led me back to the light — back to my friends. That’s when we realized he was the Seiryuu.”

“Thank you for telling me,” I say. “It’s clearer to me now . . . even if Shin-Ah has changed since when I’ve known him, he’s still the same, too. I mean, he still has the desire to protect people. I love that about him, and so I will continue to love him for forever, because he’ll always have that trait. Does that make any sense?”

Yona nods eagerly, her eyes lit up. “It’s great that you two have each other,” she says.

“I think that’s true to what you mentioned earlier as well,” I continue. “We might change throughout our life — but throughout it all, there’ll always be something about us that will be the same. I think there’s something about that with every person. One thing that always remains the constant no matter what — something you can always rely on to love and to hold onto.”

“I’ve never thought of that before,” Yona says, smiling. “If that’s true, then maybe Hak is . . . a shield. Firm and unyielding. Something that will never break.”

I blink a few times and return her smile. “Yes, that sounds about right from what I’ve seen of him.” 

“Thank you, Ae-Sun,” she says softly. “It’s really nice to have another girl in the group.”

I laugh. “No, thank you. For allowing me to be a part of this.”

* * *

 

When we finally return to camp, Yoon complaining about how long we took, Yona and I just grin at each other, before parting ways — she going over to talk to Hak, and I moving over next to Shin-Ah, of course.

“Hey,” I say.

He glances up, and his lips curve up slightly at the sight of me. Ao sits on his lap, asleep, and I reach forward to pet her head.

“I was thinking about you,” I say.

I can sense his surprise and before he can say anything, I continue: “You can change all you want. Or you can stay exactly the way you are. But I’ll always love you.”

There are five seconds of silence.

He shifts his weight on the log he’s sitting on. Tilts his head. Then he says, “That was what you were thinking about?”

I nod, and I take his hand in mine. He’s wearing his fingerless gloves, which I kind of want to take off, but I content myself to just rub his hand within mine, warming it up.

“I wasn’t thinking . . . anything like that,” he says truthfully. “I was just thinking that I love you. That’s all.”

I can’t stop the grin that stretches across my face. “That’s good enough,” I say. I lean in and wrap my arms around him; someone gasps  — I don’t know if it’s him or me, or both. Squeezing him as hard as I possibly can, like I never want to let him go — because I don’t — I whisper his name: “Shin-Ah.”

His head tilts toward me. “Ae-Sun?”

“I just wanted to say your name. That’s all.”

And it really is.


	16. BONUS CHAPTER 2

_BONUS CHAPTER 2_

* * *

In the last few days since we’ve been traveling through the Fire Tribe, Shin-Ah has been acting weird. I feel him staring at me more than normal, then quickly looking away when I catch him. And he also begins to stare at Yona in a strange way, too. One day, I even find him rummaging in her things.

I try not to be bothered by it.

I mean, Yona _is_ his “king reincarnated” or whatever. Surely that means he’s just being protective or something. Totally. (After all, Hak, her bodyguard, never lets his eyes off of her . . . though that doesn’t particularly make me feel better, seeing as the nature of Hak’s feelings toward Yona aren’t strictly platonic, a fact that only she is unaware of.)

It’s on a very auspicious day, with shining blue skies and clouds that look like they’d be a lot more comfortable than the ground we’re sleeping on, that we enter a Fire Tribe village, and I decide that today will be a wonderful day for Shin-Ah and me. It may, in fact, be our very first date.

“Say, Shin-Ah,” I start as we enter the small village, a more prominent one than most, which is filled with people, bustling with their goods. I turn to face him, a grin on my face — only to find that he’s disappeared from my side.

Well, then.

I glance around to see that the remainder of the group is still intact: Yona, Hak, Yoon, Kija, and Zeno. Jae-Ha’s gone off on his own once again. But Shin-Ah . . . that is kind of unusual.

Yona catches my gaze and says, “Did you need something, Ae-Sun?”

I wave an airy hand. “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.” I try to brighten my smile, which had deflated at Shin-Ah’s disappearance. “Let’s get going then, shall we? We have lots of shopping to do, right?”

“That’s right,” Yoon declares. “You remember your list, yes?” He hands me a few coins and his gaze practically shoots daggers. It’s the first time I’ve been allotted money, so I’m sure this is some sort of test.

“Yep,” I say, giving him a reassuring smile which I’m pretty sure doesn’t reassure him. “I’ll meet up with you guys later!”

My mental shopping list is very short with only two items: a swatch of fabric to mend Zeno’s clothes, and some thread to match. Yoon made it very clear that the thread match the fabric. In reality, it likely doesn’t matter, but he’s probably just trying to see how well I listen.

Very well. Bring it on, kid.

I recall the sewing lessons Father made me take, before realizing I clearly wasn’t talented in any such area, and wonder if I can remember any of the things the old village women taught me just so I can impress Yoon. Yona’s clearly not the sewing type, and while she may be feminine enough to like pretty dresses and jewelry (judging from the earrings I see her wear), it doesn’t seem likely that she cares about that stuff now.

Yoon would probably appreciate the help. And as the only other girl, I should step up and do my part in the group. We don’t need another warrior or hunter; Hak and the other dragons have us completely covered.

So that leaves me . . .

As I walk through the village, several people call out to me, advertising their goods and naming their prices. I ignore them until I spot a stand with bolts of fabric hung up. Moving through the huddles of people, I stop in front of the lady manning the stall, and examine her wares.

“Hello,” she says, smiling at me. “What can I help you with today? Gonna make a pretty dress? What about a nice skirt? Red’s all the rage now.” She motions to a beautiful bolt of crimson red silk, and for a moment, I’m tempted to touch it, just to feel the smoothness of the fabric.

I say, “I just need some plain fabric. And some thread. Preferably the same color. Actually, the exact same color, if you could.”

The woman scowls, clearly disappointed with my shopping choices, but she bends down and retrieves a muddled brown piece of cotton and a spool of thread the same hue. As I tell her the measurements, I let myself eye her other goods: there’s a beautiful sunset orange, a piece of forest green, but what catches my eye is the blue hidden beneath all the others. Before I can help myself, I uncover it to get a better view:

It’s unearthly. The blue seems to shimmer whichever way I turn it, from glassy light blue to a cerulean to the color of the sea under a midnight sky. I can’t help thinking that if I ever saw a dragon, this would be what its scales would look like. Pure and ethereal and unbound.

I want it. I want it so much that I’m heartily tempted to spend the rest of the money Yoon gave me. But I know, before I even check the amount, that the material is way too expensive for whatever leftover change I have.

So, regrettably, I push the bolt of fabric back under the others (I mean, if I can’t have it, _no one_ should have it — I’m selfish that way), and leave the stall, and the saleswoman glowering at my back.

* * *

I open my eyes at the crack of dawn to see a horned mask peering down at me. Despite myself, I shriek and pull the blankets up to my chin. He jumps back, startled as well.

“Shin-Ah,” I breathe out, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “What are you doing?”

He lowers his head. “Ah . . . Ae-Sun. I wanted to say . . .”

I blink, waiting for him to continue.

He mutters something too low for me to hear. I let out a breath, long and slow, then I lean forward until our cheeks our brushing, and his lips our right near by ear. “Yes?” I say. “You were saying something.” His cheeks feel warm against mine. (Though maybe it’s mine that are warm.)

“Happy birthday,” he whispers.

_Ah._

“I forgot,” I admit. “Is it that day?”

“Yoon checked the calendar yesterday,” he says.

“I didn’t think you would remember. _I_ don’t even remember telling you.” But then again, his memory skills are way beyond mine.

A small smile tilts his lips. I want to kiss them.

“I have something for you,” he says. “If you’ll take it.”

“Really?” Despite myself, I feel excitement filling me, at the knowledge that _Shin-Ah_ got me something.

He nods. “I hope you will like it.”

“Of course I’ll like it! I’ll like anything you give me.”

He leans forward and plants a kiss on my lips.

I almost fall back from surprise.

He is not usually the one to initiate things, so perhaps my shock is justified. But still, I lean in and curl my hands around him, and deepen the kiss.

When we part, his cheeks are pink, and he’s breathing a little heavier than normal. He says, “That was part one.”

“Part one?” I suddenly feel a bit nervous. “There’s . . . more than one? Do you mean kisses or . . . like something else?”

He tilts his head, and I get the feeling that he’s not revealing anything.

And so, that is how my day starts.

* * *

A few hours later, once the rest of the group has woken up and breakfast is ready, courtesy of Yoon (of course), Shin-Ah stands up.

This may not generally be unusual, but we’re talking about Shin-Ah here, and the thing is, he never really draws attention to himself. So the fact that we’re all eating and he just stands up is quick a shock.

Looks like today will be full of surprises.

“Today,” he begins, “is . . . it’s Ae-Sun’s birthday.”

That’s all he can muster, it seems.

Everyone stares at him for a few seconds. Then, as one, their heads turn to me. I blush at the attention as everyone at once calls out an assortment of happy birthdays.

“Thank you,” I say. “I mean, really. For allowing me to be a part of this and everything.”

“Of course!” Yona cries out. “We love having you here, Ae-Sun.”

I grin at her, encouraged.

Shin-Ah, who’d disappeared in the sudden chaos, abruptly returns — with a plate in his hands. Without a word, he places it before me, and says, “This is part two.”

“A cake,” I say. “Did you make this?”

He nods.

It’s short, small, a little disfigured maybe, but I love it already. And I’ve convinced myself that even if it tastes horrible, I’m going to eat the whole thing.

I take a bite.

Everyone waits with baited breath.

“It’s . . . good.”

“Who knew?” Jae-Ha muses. “Seiryuu can cook.”

“It’s probably because he has a good influence he can study from,” Yoon says pompously.

I nudge Shin-Ah, swallow another bite, and say, “This really stinks, though, because now I can’t say I’m a better cook than you.”

I can feel him smiling, and he moves just a bit closer to me.

The rest of the morning and afternoon pass in a fairly normal fashion. We pack up our things and head to our next destination, with Jae-Ha flying out and scouting every so often, and Shin-Ah keeping an eye on things as well.

It’s after dinner that I receive the next “part.”

“Ae-Sun,” Shin-Ah calls out to me, and I turn when I hear my name.

Hak has stoked up the fire to a size larger than normal, and light dances around the clearing, making the atmosphere strange and beautiful. A night breeze snakes through the forest and I almost shiver, though it’s not from the wind.

“Yoon helped me with this one,” Shin-Ah says. “Close your eyes.”

I do as he says, but even with my eyes closed, I can see the orangeness of the flames. I can hear the crackle of the leaves as he steps closer, and the heat of his body nearing mine. He drapes something over my neck, something soft and long, and I breathe out — because I think I know what he’s done.

“For you,” he says, voice soft. He takes a step back. “You can open your eyes now.”

When I open my eyes, I see that I’m right.

He must’ve seen me yesterday. His eyesight . . . it truly is amazing. He must’ve gone back to that lady and bought the material, despite whatever Yoon’s protests were, and somehow convinced the boy to make this beautiful, beautiful piece of clothing.

It’s the blue cloth I saw yesterday. The one I thought looked like dragon scales. In the firelight, it seems to glimmer even more, like the fire itself is imparting its power into the fabric, making it even more vibrant than before.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, holding the piece out to its full length. A sash of some kind, it looks like. Perfectly sewn (I expect nothing less from Yoon, after all).

“My, my,” Jae-Ha says. “What a gift. How much did you have to pay for that, Seiryuu?”

“Don’t ask such a question,” Kija scolds. He has a wide grin on his face, and it almost looks like he’s more touched by the gift than I am.

I slip the cloth around my waist, tying it as best I can, and grin up at Shin-Ah. “How does I look?” I ask.

He goes still and doesn’t say a word — just nods. For a moment, I’m struck with the odd idea that he can’t speak: that somehow, I’ve rendered him speechless.

* * *

We celebrate for the rest of the night, the dragons a boisterous bunch, and Yoon trying to calm them down in order for bedtime.

A little while before our appointed time to sleep, however, Shin-Ah and I slip away (with permission), and I wonder if this is it. The last part. I kind of wish it wouldn’t end — not the presents part, but just the little surprises. The touching thoughts he’s put into this day.

He leads me a bit away from camp, and then when he’s ascertained that we’re alone, he tugs off his mask and throws it to the ground. Again, I’m shocked — he must really be trying to make today special for me. I’m pleased, of course, but . . .

“Shin-Ah,” I start, but then he turns his face toward me, and I lose all words.

“The last part,” he murmurs. “I . . . I hope you like it.”

“Of course,” I say, and the words come out sounding a bit strangled, because whenever he looks at me, I find I can’t really think all that well.

He moves toward a tree and bends down to uncover a place he’d hidden with a bunch of twigs and leaves. I can’t see the item, because he hides it behind his back as he returns to my side.

His hands move up to the side of my head, and I feel something slide through my hair. My mouth falls open slightly, and my hands reach up to touch the pin.

“When did you —”

“Yesterday,” he says. “While everyone else was shopping.”

So that’s why he disappeared on me.

“Take it out,” I tell him. “I want to see it.”

A smile curves his lips and he obliges, sliding the pin from my hair into my hands.

It’s silver, like the color of the moon, and it’s delicately shaped, with small crystals and blue flowers twining together in intricate patterns.

“It’s beautiful,” I say. “I love it. I mean . . . it’s perfect. How did you know?”

He shrugs. “Yona . . . helped me. She suggested something like this.”

A surge of clarity shoots through me. Is that why he’s been looking at Yona all this time? I even saw him talking with her once, before the two of them scattered at my approach. Was he thinking about . . . what to get me? For my birthday?

I mean, it’s true that Yona’s beautiful and all. But she also has great taste in jewelry.

“Shin-Ah,” I say slowly, and I twist the pin around so I can put it back in my hair. “You’ve done so much for me . . . I can’t ever thank you enough.”

He gives me a puzzled look. “You’re the one who’s done everything for me,” he says.

I blink a few times. Then I say, “You’ve really thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”

He blushes slightly and nods.

I smile. “It’s amazing. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

At the smile that touches his lips and reaches to his eyes, I feel my heart melt just a bit, and then my pulse speeds up. He cocks his head at me, his gaze intense and wondering.

“You took off your mask,” I say.

He blinks, confused. “Yes, I did.”

“You . . . I mean, I’m glad you did. I love being able to see your face, but you know . . . it’s okay if you feel more comfortable wearing it. I don’t mind.”

He steps forward sharply, closing the distance between us. “No,” he says, and the word is almost forceful. “You’re wrong.”

“I am?”

“I . . . want to be able to see your face, too. And I want to be with you. Without anything between us.”

Literally, I guess.

He continues. “I want it to be you. I want it to always be you who . . .” He pauses, his cheeks going red. “. . . who sees me.”

I gape like a fish.

Then I grin, a burst of happiness running through me. I say, “I hate to say this, Shin-Ah, but this whole day was kind of unnecessary.”

“What?” He looks bewildered.

“I mean, I loved the kiss. And the cake was delicious. And the sash and the hairpin are beautiful, of course. But I’ll tell you a secret.” I lean in close, and he leans in, too, like for a moment he actually believes it’s a secret, and not something that he should’ve known a long time ago.

I kiss his forehead, then when he begins to protest I kiss his lips to close them, and, finally, I turn his head, tugging on his ear slightly so he’ll listen to me when I say:

“You’re the greatest gift of all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much fluff. Well, at least it's pretty fluffy where I'm concerned. In case any of you are wondering, I'm not entirely sure when this takes place (so in essence, I don't really know when Ae-Sun's birthday is). It's sometime in the Fire Tribe arc, but I didn't want to limit the story to an exact date, and I'm also not sure how the seasons in Kouka work and all, so I just left it kinda vague. Shin-Ah has the lovely birthday of January 3rd, though, and if I were to give Ae-Sun an official date . . . hm, how about June 16th? (Confession: that was just decided randomly.)
> 
> Anyway, what did you think about this one? I hope Shin-Ah's not too out of character. I wanted to show him going a little out of his way because he's trying to make sure Ae-Sun has a good birthday. It's rather sweet, but hopefully it's still within the realm of his character.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed! Keep on being awesome.


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